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#after four years it should be like reality tv or something just a whole new line up and fresh ideas
humanfleshfairie · 1 day
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You know what confuses the hell outta me as a Canadian being force fed American politics by proxy of having the internet ?
Is there only ever two candidates?
I could've sworn there was like 4 parties that you could vote for but like for the last eight or something years it's been like Trump or Biden then kamala or Trump or Trump and Obama. Like are there no other people running for office over there? I feel like I'm in the twilight zone, and it's just the same three people on a loop. But you guys do reelection every four years so like...what's even going on over there ????
#i could just look it up#but the point is the rant and the feeling behind it#like whats even the point of the system there if they always seem to be circulating through like the same two or three people#after four years it should be like reality tv or something just a whole new line up and fresh ideas#tired of seeing the same conflict over and over and over#anyways im not even american so its kinda whatever but also#voting in general feels like this all time#i cant even remember a time i heard about people other than doug ford or justin trudeau#I WANT NEW PEOPLE#NEW IDEAS#and more than anything i want politics to stop being like some highschool election based in social visibility and popularity#like not to sound like dork but WHAT HAPPENED TO THE ISSUES#WHAT DO THESE PEOPLE EVEN ACTUALY STAND FOR#ARE THEY JUST SAYING THINGS BACK AND FORTH WITH NO SUBSTANCE#its always like#tHis PErsOn wIlL aLloW pEoPle To TraNsiTion#tHiS PerSon wAnts To TaX tHe RiCh#like ya thats all well and good but WHAT ELSE???#climate crisis price gouging environmental preservation school funding library funding reproductive rights and general physical mental#emotional health aids that are consistent and cant be taken away#i dont just want people that “care” when its convenient or talk a big talk i want people that DO THINGS because they actually give a shit#and stand for something#like honestly even if its something i dont personally stand for or care for at least STAND FOR SOMETHING#but idk.#on real note i know im expecting a lot out of modern politics#politics in general#and people#but like#just wanted to air it out one time
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unhingedhearties · 5 months
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I'm Not Even Supposed to Be Here Today
I should be getting ready for a big family event (that of course has to happen while the new season airs. Good thing there's space on the TV to record the rest of the season) but then THIS catches my eye, and I can't not share it:
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I see the name Writer Janine so I know this is going to be good.
Oh! It's been a post or two since I've explained it, so here's a refresher for those who don't know who Writer Janine is. Writer Janine is the Heartie who wasted no time calling Lucabeth breaking up a massacre right after a real world massacre happened and when asked to rethink her choice of words since it was grossly inappropriate, doubled down because the slaughter of innocent people half a world over means nothing to her.
Never. Ever. Forget. That.
So this is what this brilliant mind wrote:
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You'll notice a lot of the same words get reused. Hmm... I feel like I've pointed this out before 🤔
Wow, it's almost like Mei and Mike are in love or something. It's almost like Mei's only ever been in an abusive relationship and Mike's in his first real relationship and they're both nervous and happy about it. But other people (real or fictional) can't be happy. That's not allowed! Not when Team Lucas fans are still hurting 7 freaking months after their soap opera didn't end the way they wanted.
Bill Avery... lousy inspector *literally travels to the scene of the crime & figures out Pike's testimony doesn't add up with nothing more than a stopwatch and his own 2 feet.*
😂 This woman watched WCTH, believes this and actually thinks she's a writer. It's like a dog thinking it's people.
disloyal, disloyal, disloyal etc...
Janine, this show doesn't take place on Kashyyyk and the cast isn't made up of Wookiees. No one has a life debt to Lucas. Especially when they've known Elizabeth far longer. And yes, Lucas is a fraud, a crook and con. I'm sorry him being interesting triggers you this much. We like us some bad boys here, not neutered down tea sippers. It's time for him to dip into the whiskey and have a real drink like a man's man.
Little Jack easily transfers affections from his dad for half his life to mom's new guy.
Okay, I've got to say this first. White Americans have the weirdest relationship with the concept of "community". You all claim to want it, you cry about how it apparently doesn't exist anymore, you idolize some long-gone concept of community from "the good old days", but when you actually see what a loving, supportive community of people is (usually from *gasp* large immigrant families) you fall apart. Community isn't going to your mega church once a week to gossip about which families looked at you the wrong way or aren't raising their children in a way you approve of. It's family and friends you trust pitching in, going out of your way to lend your time and help when someone needs it instead of just sending "thoughts and prayers", and doing what you can to create a positive environment not just for your kids, but all the kids around you. Especially with kids that are experiencing difficult circumstances like, I don't know, one parent leaving or dying. Like Elizabeth and LJ.
I remember 30 years ago when people were quoting the phrase "It Takes A Village To Raise A Child" like they were profound scholars, but never put it into practice because the reality of what that means sent them into a tizzy. That's why I love Faith looking after Lilly and the whole Daycare Center plot. Everyone pitches in to help the kids and community grow.
A four year old boy having several positive male role models in his life isn't going to harm him. Lucas wasn't LJ's "dad" for half his life, he was his buddy. And his buddy is still a positive influence in his life. And if it surprises you that LJ has affection for the Mountie that's kind to him and shares the same job as his biological father, I don't know what to tell you (besides that you're a shit writer if you didn't see that coming).
Anyway, how about some of the responses:
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Oh Lynne, you sweet summer child. I wish I had your optimism.
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Oh my God, we're still doing this!?
Team Lucas Stop Deflecting And Actually Address The Horrible Behavior From Your Side Challenge: Impossible.
Stop. You do not want to be this kind of person. You need to stop ignoring when a handful of people you agree with do awful things and you need to stop bring up the awful behavior of the handful of lunatics from the side you hate as deflection. If you live your life like this, it will come back to bite you in the ass. If you really want to keep acting like this though, I have no problem pinning the reprehensible behavior of people like Janine and Liz onto all Lucas fans. If you want to be this way, I can start saying all Lucas fans think the massacres in the middle east aren't that big of a deal and that Ben Rosenbaum raising money to fight MS really pisses them off. The choice is yours.
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"talks down on her ex's love language"
AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! I've ranted enough on this post and don't have time to go into this, so I'll leave it up to people who have said it before and better than I could: Love Language is bullshit part 1
Love Language is bullshit part 2
Love Language is bullshit part 3
Love Language is bullshit part Just Go Here
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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years
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An Ocean Away - Harry Styles
Sequel to Tastes Like Strawberries 🍓 !
a/n: ahhh! thank you so much for the love you showed TLS! i already had more planned for the story, but all your comments motivated me to do this part 2! it’s an emotional one so brace yourselves! further in the chapter i placed the song that inspired the title and i listened to it while writing so i suggest you do the same!
pairing: professor!Harry x Reader
warning: sexual content
word count: 12.7k
masterlist
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You walk down the familiar hallway texting back Eden that you are not spending the night at home again.
Eden: You really need to tell me about the dick that keeps you so busy these days.
Y/N: I never said a thing about any dick.
Eden: Oh please, you surely got yourself a rebound after Harry, you can’t tell me otherwise.
Y/N: Don’t you get a rebound when you broke up with someone? I was never together with Harry, so it doesn’t make sense.
Eden: You had a thing!! Okay, whatever. Keep your little secrets, I guess it’s fine…
Y/N: Love you!
Chuckling to yourself you put the phone away and stop at the door you know all too well, knocking two times before you open it and poke your head inside.
Harry is sitting at his desk, his reading glasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose as he is vigorously scribbling something down into his notebook. He lifts his head at your arrival and you shut the door closed behind you.
“Hello, professor,” you smile at him teasingly, walking around his desk as he pushes himself back a little so you can sit on his lap, pecking his lips gently.
“Hey, done for the day?” he asks, his fingers tenderly stroking your thighs over the fabric of your jeans.
“Yeah. We can leave if you’re done,” you nod.
“Just a few more minutes, alright?”
“Sure,” you nod, standing up from his lap so he can finish his work while you sit on the little loveseat he has in the corner, right under the window.
It’s been six weeks since New Year’s Eve, the new semester has officially started, you’re working your way towards your degree as this is officially your last semester, but what’s more important that you and Harry have been a couple for six weeks following the heated actions of New Year’s Eve.
Harry is still quite anxious about the whole thing, always on high alert and he even asked you to lie to Eden and Nat too. You tried to fight him on that, but you could tell how much he wanted to protect what you had so you decided to feed them this elaborate story about how you and Harry had a fight on New Year’s Eve and realized that it would have never worked out so you agreed to stay just friends. It seems like they believed, because they’ve been keen on trying to set you up with someone while you just keep dodging their attempts, sneaking around with Harry behind their back.
Other than the continuous lying and sneaking around, things have been going well with him. You’ve been spending a lot of time at his place, the only hiding spot where you can be carefree around each other without always watching out for others around you.
Today is Valentine’s day and though your opportunities to celebrate are very slim, having anything that’s slightly public crossed out of the list, that still doesn’t stop the two of you from having a good night in.
You watch him curiously as he is reading the lines of someone’s essay probably, or some test, whatever. Holding the pen ready to use whenever he finds something incorrect, he furrows his eyebrows at something before crossing out a line, mouthing the words he writes to the side of the page. He doesn’t wear his glasses that often, but he’s been complaining about having dry eyes these past days so it’s no surprised he switched to them from his contact lenses.
“You look sexy in your glasses, have I told you that?”
He glances at you, a small smirk tugging on his lips before he returns to the paper in front of him.
“Think they make me look older,” he mumbles under his breath.
“Nah, not more at least than your grandpa sweaters,” you tease him, earning a ‘Really? This again?’ look from him that makes you chuckle.
You busy yourself while Harry finishes his work and then you head out together, strictly keeping the distance between each other. Walking out of the building Harry heads to the left where the car park is while you take a turn to the right. It’s been your usual, since you can’t have anyone see you get into Harry’s car so casually, so you usually walk down to the small café near Building D, because there’s a very narrow little street running behind it where you can get into the car without anyone noticing you. You do the same now too before finally heading back to Harry’s place. Sinking into the comfortable seat, you stare out the window, thinking about how it’s just been six weeks since New Year’s Eve, but it feels like you’ve been together with Harry for months. Despite his many doubts and hesitant act, it was easy to fall into a kind of routine with him, and even more easier to get used to the thought that he is yours and you are his.
During these six weeks you’ve learned quite a few things about him, things women on campus would die to know and they were handed over to you on a silver plate by Harry himself.
One, he is a very touchy person, of course, when he has the chance for it. In the safety of his home or when you have a few minutes for yourselves in his office, he always likes to have his hand on your back or waist, he loves touching your hips or cheeks, caressing the skin wherever it shows from under your clothes. He is also very cuddly, likes to wrap you in his arms when you’re watching TV and when it’s time to sleep the first thing he does is to pull you into his embrace. You usually wake up in the morning with him completely wrapped around you, limbs thrown over you, face buried into your chest or stomach. He is a messy sleeper, but also a fucking adorable one.
Two, he is a good cook but not that good at baking. He says it’s the universe’s sign that he shouldn’t eat as much sweet stuff as he does, but in reality he just sucks at measuring the ingredients. He never follows the recipe, easily goes with things his own way and then he is surprised when it doesn’t turn out as it should.
Three, he notices the smallest things you’d never. Like how you hate it when the Sun is shining right into your face so he always makes sure to draw the blinds in the evening, or that you prefer sleeping with more pillows so he just simply gives you an extra without even asking every time you’re spending the night. He cares so much about you to the smallest details, it always makes your heart flutter.
And four, though he keeps a tough act in school, he is a lovesick puppy when no one is around, likes to be the small spoon when cuddling, absolutely adores it when you cup his face in your palms and kiss it all over. Loves it when you play with his hair or when you hug him from behind, kissing between his shoulder blades. He always tells you how pretty you are and never misses a chance to sneak a kiss from you. You couldn’t imagine him do any of these before you really knew him, but now you see that all these little things are just as much parts of him like the version of him he shows at school. You feel lucky to be able to see him like this and you’ll probably never get bored of it.
Arriving to his place you drop your bag off at the bedroom before you join him in the kitchen, already eyeing the flyer to the nearby Italian place that delivers.
“How about pizza?” he hums, eyebrows knitted together as he scans the menu.
“Sounds good. Can we order dessert too?” Walking past him you kiss his shoulder before grabbing a glass for yourself, filling it with tap water.
“Oh, no need,” he shyly answers, glancing at you. “We… have dessert.”
You watch him with curious eyes as he disappears in his little study before emerging with a plate filled with pink cupcakes. They look wobbly, the cream on top is not the same on either of them, but because you know he made them, they are the most perfect you’ve ever seen.
He places the plate to the counter with a shy smile before turning to you.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he murmurs, hands finding your hips as he pulls you in for a kiss.
“Oh baby, did you stay up last night to make these?” you ask, touched that he took the time and energy to surprise you with something. Harry nods and you kiss his dimples softly.
“Mm, they are strawberry flavored,” he smirks boyishly.
“We are never escaping strawberries,” you chuckle softly as you dip your fingertip into the cream on top of one of the cakes, tasting it. “Hmm, this is actually good,” you tell him.
“Yeah, the cream is kind of okay, dunno about the rest though,” he admits chuckling.
“As long as it’s not poisonous, I’ll love it,” you giggle kissing his lips again softly. “Alright, but I can’t go over the fact that we agreed on no gifts for Valentine’s Day,” you say giving him a look.
“S’not a gift, just… a little gesture,” he shrugs innocently.
“Okay, then you can’t get mad over my little gesture,” you smirk at him, peeling his arms off you before you run into his bedroom to get his gift.
You really weren’t planning to give him anything, but you had a good idea last minute and couldn’t just not do it. Digging into your bag you pull out the little box and join him in the kitchen again, handing it to him.
“It’s not fair if you spent money on it,” he pouts, but you just roll your eyes.
“You spent money on the cupcakes too. But besides, I didn’t spent a penny on it. Open it!” You urge him.
Harry huffs but takes the lid off, revealing a stack of Polaroid photos. In this not too ideal situation the two of you are living in, there’s no chance you can ever post anything about him, even though there are quite a few cute photos of you with Harry. Eden recently bought a Polaroid printer and you borrowed it to print your favorite pictures of the two of you. There’s one from the morning after New Year’s Eve, just a silly selfie you took in bed, then one with the band from Harry’s birthday recently, a photo of the two of you backstage of one of his gigs you took in the mirror, he has his guitar in his hands as you stand next to him smiling widely. There are a few more with Sarah, Mitch, Charlotte and Adam and at the very end of the stack… some special ones.
You watch him go through them smiling warmly until he reaches the last few and freezes. You took the courage to take a few spicy ones of yourself in your favorite lingerie and thought it would be sexy to print them out as well and give them to him.
“I hope you’re not thinking about selling them already,” you chuckle. Harry glances up at you before shaking his head with a playful smirk.
“Was just a little surprised by them,” he admits.
“Do you… like them?”
“Oh baby, I love them, you look… wow,” he breathes out going over the pictures one more time. “But I’m gonna have to lock these away so no one finds them. Adam likes to go over my stuff when he is over, I definitely don’t want him to find them.”
“You better keep them safe because if anyone sees them I’m burying myself,” you snort.
Harry puts the stack of photos back into the box before leaning down he cups your face and kisses you gently.
“Thank you, love the pictures. All of them,” he adds cheekily and you feel yourself blushing.
He leans in to kiss you again, putting the box aside to the counter and this time it’s not just one short kiss, he carries it on, taking his time with your lips, savoring and tasting you without a worry in the world. It grows more and more passionate, tongues clashing and you tug at his hair, lacing your fingers through his locks, a moan escaping his pink lips.
You start inching backwards until your backside meets the edge of the counter. Harry doesn’t hesitate to pull your sweater off of you, throwing it behind before his lips are pressed against yours again. It doesn’t take long for his shirt and pants and your jeans to end up on the floor somewhere behind him, leaving you both in just your underwear. You kiss down his neck and collarbones, your lips gliding across his tattooed chest as you slowly slide down to your knees, hands moving over his growing bulge.
Hooking your fingers into the elastic of his boxers, you tug them down and pull his erection out, already so hard for you and you barely even touched him.
“What does my Valentine deserve for making me cupcakes?” you hum, teasingly pumping him a few times with your hands. Harry whimpers under your touch, but doesn’t answer so you stop your hands and look up at him. “Talk to me, what do you want?”
“Your mouth,” he breathes out, his eyes meeting yours, filled with lust and hunger only for you. Smirking to yourself you lick his length up before gently kissing the head, swirling your tongue around the tip before you slowly take him into your mouth.
“Oh fuck, baby!” he pants when you start bobbing your head, pumping the base in sync with your head’s movements.
His hand comes to the back of your head, fingers lacing through your hair. He doesn’t force you, he never does, just likes to hold onto you. You try to take him deeper and deeper with each movement until you fit his whole cock into your mouth, keeping it there for a few seconds before pulling away and letting him go.
“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he mumbles, helping you up from the floor, kissing your lips hard as he is already pulling your panties down your legs. “How do you want it?”
“From behind,” you tell without hesitation, turning around so you can lean onto the counter and push your ass up for him.
You feel one of his hands stroke down your spine while the other one reaches between your legs, his fingers finding your clit, drawing gentle circles on it at first before he goes a little harder, making you moan his name.
“Harry, please!” you beg, the need to feel him growing with each passing second.
He pulls his hand back, grabbing his hard cock as he lines himself up with you, one hand on his shaft, the other one holding your hip firmly to keep you in place. First he pushes just the tip inside and when he is sure you’re ready to take more, he slides all of him inside, filling you up perfectly.
“Shit, you feel so fucking good. Always so good,” he breathes out, both his hands coming to grip your waist as his hips meet your ass from behind.
He starts moving, going a little soft at the beginning before he gets rougher, his hips smacking against your ass with each thrust. You arch your back and push your ass up so you’re angled just perfectly for him, he runs a hand up your back, sliding it under the clasp of your bra and he leaves it there while fucking you from behind oh so well.
“Harry, oh my God!” you groan when he starts hitting that one spot that makes you go crazy.
“Feeling good, baby?”
“Fuck! So good!” you gasp, feeling the pleasure building up with each thrust. “Go harder!” you beg and once he has both hands on your hips again he does as you asked, railing into you hard, making you keep gasping for air.
“Getting close? Tell me when you’re about to cum, baby.”
“I’m close, please don’t stop!” you pant, hands holding onto the counter’s edge for dear life.
He reaches around you, a hand coming between your legs as his fingers find your clit again, adding to the sensation as he starts playing with it just the way you like it.
“Fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum! Harry!” you moan uncontrollably and he growls deeply from his chest.
“Cum with me, baby. Give it to me,” he breathes out sharply and he just keeps railing you hard, fingers working on your clit until he feels your walls clench around his dick. “Oh fuck, yes, baby! Cum on my cock!” he gasps and at the same time as you go through your orgasm, you feel him twitch inside you, coming hard with you at the same time. “Jesus fuck! I love you, Y/N!”
You gasp at his words, eyes snapping open in the middle of your orgasm and all air pushes out of your lungs for a moment.
He whimpers and moans, thrusting into you a few more times before he comes to a halt, both of you panting like crazy, coming off your high. When he slowly slides his softening cock out of you, you turn around and look into his eyes. For a moment you thought he just said it in the heat of the moment and he didn’t even realize it, but when your eyes meet his, you can tell he is a little afraid of what your reaction is going to be.
“Did you mean that?” you quietly ask as he tucks his dick back into his boxers, pulling them up, but you don’t bother to put your underwear back on, standing there in only your bra.
“I-I did. I didn’t mean to say it now, but I did mean it,” he nods. “Is it… too soon?”
“No,” you smile at him, stepping closer so you can cup his face in your palms, kissing his lips softly. “I love you too.”
“You do?” he asks, surprised at your reaction.
“Of course, silly. I wouldn’t give my nudes to someone I don’t,” you joke making him chuckle, his arms coming to curl around your waist.
“Sorry, this wasn’t too… romantic,” he breathes out and you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
“You said you love me while fucking me on Valentine’s Day after exchanging cute gifts. I think it’s romantic,” you chuckle, finally making him smile. “Besides, I don’t care about the setting, just feels nice to hear you say it.”
“Yeah?” “Mhm, care to say it again so I can see your eyes as well?”
“I love you,” he softly murmurs, his forehead resting against yours.
“Yeah, feels better when I can actually look at you,” you chuckle kissing him softly. “I love you too.”
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It’s definitely not just fun and games, being in a secret relationship that no one can know about. It surely adds a lot of tension into the situation, having to be so careful all the time and be reserved to the point where you can’t even be seen too often together.
As the semester carries on you always keep your ears open if there’s anything going on about you and Harry. Though you only limit your time together on campus to the bare minimum, only talking on rare occasions, you still want to make sure no one is getting the wrong (or right) idea about what is going on between the two of you.
The worst part is probably having to lie to Eden and Nat all the time. You spend about three nights at Harry’s every week and you have to lie every time you leave. After a while you tell them that you’re dating this new guy but he wants to keep it low-key because he recently broke up with his previous girlfriend. That gives them enough peace not to nag you all the time but you can tell they really want to meet this new man in your life.
You’ve tried to discuss it with Harry, tell him that they won’t tell anyone but it ended in a fight and you kind of gave up. Harry is way too keen on keeping it a secret and it’s clear he is not gonna make any exceptions. At least it’s the same with his friends, the two of you act like just friends when you’re out with the band though you have a suspicion that Sarah can see through the act. However she chooses not to talk about it so it’s kept hidden.
You don’t fight much with Harry, but when you do, it’s major. You both can get really into the argument and it easily gets way too heated, turning into a screaming match until you both realize you should just talk it out and have a little more understanding for each other. The makeup sex after a fight however… that’s something that makes up for every nasty thing that’s said in the heat of the moment.
Nearing the end of the semester you both start to grow more stressed, you about finishing your last classes, your thesis and studying for your finals, Harry about the growing pile of essays and tests waiting to be graded. A lot of the time when you’re at his place you both are busy with your own stuff and only have the chance to actually be with each other when you go to bed. It takes a toll on the both of you, but you’re determined to make it work. Despite the unfortunate nature of how you are forced to maintain your relationship, it’s the healthiest one you’ve ever head and you definitely won’t give up on it too easily.
Though you, Nat and Eden turn in your thesis works mid-April, the semester is still not done for the three of you, the final exams are threateningly close at this point. Spring has officially kicked in, the weather is mostly clear and sunny, allows you to stay outside again and you take advantage of it.
One particular afternoon the three of you are lounging under the pergola, all three of you buried in a book or your notes when you spot Harry walking towards the building. You keep your eyes on him as he slowly approaches you, his gaze meets yours and he smiles at you shortly. It’s all you can get out in the public, but it’s more than nothing.
“Isn’t it hard to see him?” Eden asks and glancing her way you see that she is looking at Harry who is now busy with his phone.
“Why would it be?”
“I don’t know, you clearly had a thing for him and it wasn’t even just a one-sided flirting like every other women had with him. I couldn’t be around him if it happened to me.”
“It’s not like anything major happened. It was all bad timing and the situation wasn’t good. It’s better this way,” you tell her, trying to sound convincing while the guilt is eating you on the inside. All these lies are clouding over your head and you have a feeling they will come down on you pouring one day.
“Still crazy that you are friends with his friends though,” Nat chimes in, squinting her eyes in the sunshine.
“Yeah, you are literally the only person on campus who gets to see him in his private life,” Eden nods. If only they knew how much you see him privately!
“It’s not that crazy,” you shrug, turning back to your book.
You all get back to work, forgetting about Harry, or at least Nat and Eden does, because you get a text from him shortly after he disappeared in the building.
Harry: You look very pretty today :)
Y/N: Flirting with me on campus, professor?
Harry: Can’t help it.
Y/N: You look handsome too, it’s a shame I can’t kiss you stupid!
Harry: Patience!
 “Y/N? Did you hear what I said?” Nat grabs your attention from the phone and you realize she was talking to you.
“What? Uh, sorry.”
“I said that we should go out this weekend. It’s been ages since we last did anything other than studying.”
“I’m not sure…”
“Don’t come with your usual, rambling about how we shouldn’t have any fun before we finish,” Eden rolls her eyes.
“That’s not what I say. I just think that we have priorities.”
“I don’t know about you, but it’s a priority for me to have fun, so I’m down for a night out.
“I think I’m passing,” you mumble. You already made plans for the weekend with Harry, take a hike up the hills since the weather has been nice and it would be great to spend time together outside the house. The hiking routes are far away enough from town that uni students don’t like to take the hustle to drive all the way out so you’ll be fine being together outside.
“If you want to say that you have something planned with your mystery man, don’t even bother. If it’s not his birthday, we are overruling him,” Eden scoffs and you roll your eyes at her.
“Just go without me.”
“That’s not the same!” Nat whines. “Come on, Y/N. For once choose us!”
“That’s rude I choose you guys a lot of times!”
“Not since you’ve been spending half your life with some man and the other half in the library.”
“Yeah, we feel abandoned!” Nat pouts at you, trying to make you feel bad and in all honesty, she is succeeding.
“We can doll ourselves up, have fancy cocktails and all that, it’s gonna be fun! Come on, just one night! I can’t take another Saturday sitting in my room, reading my notes,” Eden growls and you sigh in defeat.
“Alright, I guess I’m in,” you mumble and your friends start cheering as if you just declared that men and women are going to get paid equally from now on.
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You can tell Harry is bummed that you have to cancel your weekend plans, but he is also trying to be understanding.
“I couldn’t bring up a relevant argument so they made me say yes,” you growl when later that day you’re cuddling on his couch after dinner.
“S’fine,” he sighs, leaning down he pecks your lips shortly.
“Wish I could just tell them that I had plans with you,” you breathe out.
“Y/N…” “I know!” you roll your eyes. “It’s just that it would be nice if I could at least tell them the truth.”
“We already talked about this,” he sighs.
“I know, but that doesn’t change the fact that it bothers me,” you point out. “Am I not allowed to feel that way?”
“You are, I just don’t get why you keep bringing it up when there’s literally nothing I can do about it,” he retorts.
“Well there is, you just choose not to.” And with that, you officially pick another fight with him.
It’s not that you enjoy fighting with him, not at all, but the situation is so not ideal and you find his overprotectiveness a little too much at times. You don’t understand why you can’t share it with your two closest friends. You could at least tell Sarah or the other guys, have anyone know about the two of you, but literally no one on Earth knows that you are a couple and it’s bugging you way more than it probably should.
“Why are you so damn keen on making others know about us? What does that have to do with anything?” he growls throwing his hands into the air, standing in the opposite end of the room as you keep pacing the floor, the urge to keep on moving taking over you.
“Because—“ you snap, but stop yourself. You know if you say it out loud, he’ll think you’re stupid.
“Because what?!”
“Because i-it makes me feel like we are not even real! I can’t talk about us, I can’t touch you outside of this house, no one knows we are a thing and it’s so fucking nerve-wrecking, Harry!” you break down, feeling your throat closing up. You didn’t mean to get emotional over this, but you’ve been bottling it up for a while now.
Harry’s shoulder fall forward as he sees the change in you, the heat of the fight long forgotten. He crosses the room, hands reaching up to cup your face in his palms, his thumbs running across the soft skin under your eyes as he wipes the tears away.
“Baby, I know. You think I don’t want to show you off? I want to hold your hand and just take a walk with you, kiss you whenever I want to, show all the horny fratboys on campus that you’re taken. I know it’s hard, but we really don’t have a choice until the end of the semester.”
He gently kisses the tip of your nose before pulling you to his chest, your arms circle around his waist as you bury your face into the crook of his neck, trying to stop your sobs.
“I’m sorry. I really wish it was all different,” he murmurs, kissing into your hair softly.
“No, I’m sorry for bitching about this all the time. I knew what we were getting into,” you exhale sharply. “It just… really sucks.”
“It does. But we just have to be patient.”
You manage to put the fight behind and move on in peace, but a tiny thought remains buzzing in the very back of your mind. What happens when you finish school? Will it all be different? Harry will still be a professor and if people see you around together, they will know you were one of his students. What’s gonna be the difference? If he is so on edge now, something is telling you he won’t be changing dramatically and it concerns you. A lot.
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Not willingly, but you go out with Nat and Eden on Saturday. You go to a place that’s quite popular between students, you can most likely always find familiar faces from lecture halls and classes. It’s close to campus and more on the cheap side, the perfect spot for uni students for a night of fun.
As expected, you run into some people from school and they invite the three of you to sit with them at their table which comes in handy, because there’s no empty place by the time you arrive.
One drink follows the other and you easily get tipsy especially because you skipped on dinner before heading out. Though you weren’t in the mood for tonight, you find yourself enjoying the conversation and the company. It really has been long since the last time you went out with the girls and it’s nice to spend some time with them without the books and notes.
A debate starts about whose course one of the boys, Jace should take next semester.
“Professor Peltz is fucking boring, dude,” Nat growls, taking a sip from her drink. “Had him last semester, I could barely stay awake during his lectures.”
“Yeah, but they say he gives good grades easily,” Jace argues.
“Okay, but who else can you choose from again?” Lydia, a girl who lived a few doors down from you when you lived in a dormitory your first year.
“Um, Professor Makley and Professor Styles.”
You freeze at the mention of Harry, especially upon hearing Lydia’s reaction.
“Jace, choose Professor Styles! He is so fucking hot!”
“Not that it matters to me, Lyd,” Jace chuckles.
“Oh come on, I know even guys think he is hot.”
You feel like an intruder in the conversation, keeping quiet as you listen to her rave about how hot she finds Harry. It’s like you are eavesdropping on something that wasn’t meant for your ears, but it’s just the guilt bubbling inside you once again, because you know you won’t be able to say a word without having to lie.
“She has a point,” another guy, Garrett chimes into the conversation. “The man is handsome and I’m not even ashamed to admit it.”
“See?” Lydia chuckles. “He is sexy and smart, the whole package. I’ve been daydreaming about him since first year.”
You catch Eden’s look, but you just busy yourself with gulping from your vodka cranberry, feeling uncomfortable in the situation but not even for the reason she thinks. Eden must think it’s weird because you had an actual thing with Harry, but the truth is… that thing is still very much ongoing.
“I would let that man do whatever he wants with me,” Lydia adds sighing longingly, and you are having a hard time to hold your tongue. Unfortunately, you don’t succeed.
“Not sure he wants anything to do with you,” you mumble into your drink and though you hoped your comment would stay unnoticed, but you are out of luck.
“You don’t know that for sure,” Lydia slyly replies, a bit too full of herself for your liking. Yes, she is pretty and definitely doesn’t have problem with guys, but she is a little too confident about Harry if you’re being honest.
“I’m sorry?” you ask with a soft, bit annoyed chuckle.
“I’m just saying that we’ll never know who he finds attractive, because we all know he keeps himself so far from his students.”
“Yeah, maybe because he is not interested in any of his students,” you point out.
“As if he would ever make a move on any of us,” she snorts and you are losing your temper. You shouldn’t have had so much to drink, because now you really can’t hold your tongue.
“You can never know, Lydia. You can’t know if he acts the way he does because he is just trying to be professional or because he is, and consider this, not interested in you. Maybe he would actually act up on his feelings but you’re just not his type.”
Your comment is more like just a harsh comeback to Lydia’s words, but Nat and Eden kind of catch on that something is up with you. Ignoring their questioning looks you chug down your drink and soon excuse yourself to get some fresh air. No surprise that they follow you like puppies.
“Girl, what was that inside?” Nat asks as the three of you stand near the entrance of the bar, a few smoking guests littering the area.
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” you mumble, clearly avoiding to look at any of them, wrapping your arms around your upper body as if you were trying to keep your shit together physically.
“You snapped at Lydia for saying Professor Styles might have a thing for her,” Eden points out, but you just bite the inside of your cheeks.
“Because it was bullshit.”
“Why does that matter to you? Not that you’re together with him or something,” Nat argues and you roll your lips into your mouth, trying to keep a straight face but they know you way better than that. They gasp at the same time, Eden grabbing your forearm forcefully that makes you scowl.
“Hey! That hurts!” you whine, but she couldn’t care less.
“Are you fucking around with Professor Styles?” Nat whisper yells at you, eyes wider than ever.
“I mean… we’re not fucking around,” you mumble, looking down at your shoes as you kick the dirt around. “We’re kinda serious.”
“Holy fucking shit!” Eden snaps, drawing some attention at her and you let out an awkward chuckle at the glances the three of you get. “Are you fucking joking right now?”
“No, I am… not,” you admit, feeling a little relieved that you finally said it, but you also feel like you let Harry down with it.
“How long?” Nat questions in shock.
“Since New Year’s Eve. So… almost four months.”
“So he is the one you’ve been seeing all this time? The guy you didn’t want to talk about?”
“Um, yeah. It’s not that I didn’t want to talk about him, we just agreed that it’s safer if no one knows.”
“I’m speechless, Y/N,” Eden shakes her head in disbelief. “I can’t fucking believe you kept it from us for this long!”
“I know, I felt so shitty, but it’s such a complicated situation, it’s so risky, we don’t want it to ruin us.”
“Obviously,” Nat nods understandingly. “And now I see why you snapped so harshly at Lydia.”
“I just couldn’t stand her talking like that. You guys have no idea how hard it is to keep every fucking thought to myself.”
“Why do I have a feeling it has a little more to it than to just Lydia drooling over Harry?” Nat arches an eyebrow at you, folding her arms over her chest.
“Yeah, you’ve been oddly tensed lately,” Eden agrees.
“It’s just pretty stressful to have a secret relationship, it causes a lot of tension. And I’ve been… I’m not sure anything is going to change after I graduate, if I’m being honest.”
“What do you mean?” Nat asks.
“I just…” you sigh, all your thoughts you kept to yourself flooding back to you at once, overwhelming you in a situation that’s already a bit too much to handle. “We keep saying that it’s gonna change when I graduate, but I don’t see it. He is so overprotective and even if I graduate, people will find out that I was once his student. And it might not be against the rules anymore, but we’ll be judged. I didn’t think it through before, but it’s now starting to be more and more clear for me and I just… don’t know if we can make it work.”
You feel the tears forming in your eyes, you’ve been keeping this to yourself for way too long now and saying it out loud just broke the dam. When Nat and Eden sees your lips trembling and the watery eyes you’re trying to blink away, they don’t hesitate to pull you into a tight hug.
“Aw, don’t cry! It makes me want to cry too!” Nat chuckles softly as they sandwich you between them.
“It just sucks so much, because I love him, but I feel like we met at the wrong time and place,” you sob, letting them crush you.
“It happens, baby. It happens. You’ll figure it out!” Eden kisses your forehead before they let go of you. “Want to go home?”
“It’s still early, don’t want to kill the party. I think I’ll just… head over to Harry’s for now. Is that okay?”
“Of course, do whatever makes you feel better,” Nat assures you, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.
“I’m sorry I was such a party pooper.”
You call yourself an Uber and text Harry that you are going over. Twenty minutes later you are walking up the stairs to his house and he opens the front door before you could even reach for the doorknob.
“Hey, baby,” he breathes out softly and you don’t say a word, just wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face into the crook of his neck. “Hey, what happened? Didn’t have a good time with your friends?” He delicately caresses your hair, walking the two of you inside so he can close the door before wrapping both his arms around you, holding you close to his chest.
“Don’t really want to talk about it,” you mumble and it’s the truth. You’re tired of these thoughts though you know you should talk to him about how you’ve been feeling about the two of you lately. Part of you is hoping something will just magically solve the whole situation and you won’t have to deal with it yourself.
Harry makes you a tea while you take a shower and once you are both in bed, you cuddle to his side while he reads some. You are just genuinely enjoying his closeness, because despite everything that’s been haunting you in connection with Harry, you really love this man. Like no one else before and the possibility of the two of you not making it long term scares you more than it probably should.
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The next few weeks come and go in a sense of numbness. Following your emotional breakdown in front of the bar, you kind of push the whole thing to the back of your mind once again, putting all your focus on finishing school. Neither you nor Harry has the energy to put up more fights though you both can feel there’s a lot to talk about, but the end of the semester is just keeping you both way too busy to acknowledge the problems waiting on the corner.
At least there’s one less weight on your shoulders now that Nat and Eden know about you and Harry. You made them swear to their life they won’t tell anyone and you trust them to keep this heavy secret. They’ve been very supportive of the two of you, interrogated you one evening about everything that happened so far, they wanted to make sure Harry treats you the right way. No surprise, he does.
A few weeks before your state exam Harry extends his contract with the school to have him as a professor for another academic year so he is able to keep his visa as well.
You spend your last two weeks buried in your notes before your state exam and Harry gives you all the time and space you need, knowing well how much it means to you to earn the best grade possible.
When you are finally over your exam, you are celebrating at his place. He has bought a little cake and some champagne and you can’t wait to finally spend some time with him without having to worry about your studies.
“I’m proud of you, baby,” he smiles at you, clinking his glass against yours.
“Thank you, feels nice to be finally free,” you chuckle before taking a sip from the champagne.
“My smart girl, knew you’d kill all your exams.” He kisses your lips shortly before squeezing your hand. “How about I run a bath for us, we eat the cake in the tub and then we can watch a movie?”
“Sounds fantastic,” you smile at him before he disappears in the bathroom to get everything ready.
Finishing your champagne you wash the glass quickly and you’re about to cut the cake when your phone buzzes signaling that you’ve just gotten an email. As pull down the notification bar your lips part reading the first few lines. You open the whole thing and read through it eagerly.
It’s a job offer, but not just some lame one that also sounds sketchy at the same time. This one is from one of the biggest investigation offices in London and they are offering you a trainee position as a forensic document examiner with a possible secured spot on their team after one year. The money sounds amazing, the position is perfect, just what you’ve been dreaming of once you are done with school and they are looking forward to hear back from you about a possible interview in the near future.
“Alright, bath is coming together nicely, want to cut the ca—Wha’s up?” Harry questions upon returning from the bathroom, finding you staring at your phone’s screen with widened eyes.
“I, uhh—I just got a… a job offer,” you stutter, still rereading the lines, trying to find a sign that tells you it’s just a joke, but it seems completely genuine.
“What? Baby, that’s amazing!”
“Yeah,” you nod swallowing hard before you look up at him. “It’s in London.”
You watch his face fall from excited and happy to shocked and kind of panicky. You both know what that means, it doesn’t have to be said out loud. Harry just signed another year with the university that’s gonna tie him here for the next 12 months and if you accept the job you’ll be all the way across the world in the UK. Kind of ironic, him, the British guy stuck in the States while you, the American in the relationship, eager to go to the UK.
“That’s… wow. London.”
“Yeah, London,” you nod biting the inside of your cheeks.
“Are you… Are you gonna take it?”
“Well, they want an interview with me, but this is clearly a huge opportunity for me,” you say, not wanting to say the actual words. You feel like saying them would hit you harder than what you can take.
“It clearly is, it’s just that… You want to leave?” he breathes out, eyebrows knitting together.
“This is my only job offer and probably the best I’ll ever get.”
“So you do want to leave,” he forces and it’s pushing your limits.
“Career-wise, of course!” you finally say out loud, unwillingly.
“And what about everything else?”
“I clearly don’t want to leave everything else here, but I will never get a chance like this, Harry. This is the greatest push for someone like me, fresh out of school. I can have a secured spot in a year at a well-respected place. I’m not really in the position to reject offers like this.”
He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, clearly unsure about what to do or say in the situation on his hand. You can tell he has a lot to say, but you’re not sure you want to hear all of them.
“Say something?” you softly plead and his eyes meet yours again, filled with concern.
“I just… It took me by surprise, I guess.”
“I wasn’t expecting it either.”
“No, not the job offer,” he shakes his head.
“Then what?”
“That you are ready to leave so easily. It’s like you never even wanted to discuss a version where you stay here, you just decided that you are leaving and that’s it.”
“Did you hear me? I cannot pass on this opportunity, Harry.”
“I did hear you,” he nods, pressing his lips together. “I heard that you didn’t even think about saying no.”
“Why would I say no?”
“Because I’m here, Y/N!” he snaps. “Good to know that I’m not a factor when it comes to decisions as big as leaving the country!”
“You are, Harry, but I need to think about my future career now. I’m not planning to work at an office for the rest of my life and if I pass on this job I might never get anything as good as this one,” you explain, but it seems like the two of you are having two different conversations.
“But why do I feel like it was never an option for you to stay?”
You give him a confused look. He really doesn’t see your point.
“Okay, why was only I supposed to change plans for us? You coming to London doesn’t feel like an option either, why are you trying to turn this against me?”
“I just extended my contract, you know that.”
“I do, and also, while we are at it, you didn’t ask me about that either. You didn’t even wait for me to figure out what I want to do after school, you just assumed that I would be here, but I never said that.” You can tell it hit him hard in the chest but somehow still, he thinks he is right when he isn’t.
“How could have I known you’d want to move across the globe?” he throws his hands up into the air.
“You’re saying this as if I didn’t just get the email and I’ve been plotting this the whole fucking time!”
“I’m just saying that it’s a huge fucking step and you decided so easily, it says a lot about the nature of our relationship.”
“Why are you saying that?!” you snap at him. “Why are you trying to make me the bad guy?”
“I’m not! I’m just saying that it would have been nice if you at least pretended like it was up for debate. You know what it’ll do to us if you move to London.”
“Then come with me!”
“I can’t!” He raises his voice, clearly losing his temper. “I can’t break my contract and you know that too.”
“Well, I can’t afford to say no to the job either and if I’m being honest, I don’t think we could have made it work even if I stayed.” The words leave your mouth before you could think about them, and the cat is finally out of the bag. It seemingly shocked Harry and he is now staring at you with a blank expression, shoulders falling forward.
“What?” he breathes out and you can actually hear his heart breaking. You take a deep breath and rub your face with your palms, trying to collect your thoughts and not just blurt everything out.
“I’ve been thinking and… Even after I’m officially out of the school, people will know that I was your student if they see us together. And I know how important your reputation is for you so I would never put you through any of the shit we might get for us being together. People would judge, no matter what the situation is. I don’t… I just don’t think we can ever make it work here.”
He stays silent, just stares at you, taking in your words and once again, you wish you could read his mind. You almost start begging him to say something when he finally speaks up.
“So you think we don’t have a chance?”
“Not here… maybe not now. I feel like this has been the perfect example of wrong place, wrong time,” you quietly say, a pang of guilt in your tone, this is not how you planned on making this conversation. To be honest, you wished this never had to come, but you were out of luck.
Harry is awfully silent, it’s all over his face how broken he is and you feel the same. You have so much love for this man, yet fate decided you don’t get to share it with him the way you want.
Walking closer you cup his face in your palms, searching for his eyes until his green irises meet your gaze. You run your thumb across his cheekbones, the pads of your fingers gliding softly over the soft skin. His hands slowly find their way to your waist and he pulls you close to him as you kiss him tenderly, a silent confession about just how much you love him.
“I wanted this to work. I wanted this so badly,” he whispers against your lips, his fingers digging into your back as he keeps you tight in his hold.
“I know. Me too,” you smile at him bitterly.
The rest of the evening passes by silently. You take a bath together, finish the cake anyway though even the sweetness can’t help the pain you both feel. Then you lie in bed for hours, just touching and feeling each other, making the best out of the time you have left. It’s unsaid, but you both know your days together are coming to a close end. Kisses and touches turn into some passionate love making, both of you desperate to feel as close to each other as possible and then you fall asleep in each other’s arms.
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If you’re being honest, it’s all a blur following that night. You fix up an interview with London a few days later and they are not shying out of telling you straightforward that they want you there, the job is yours. You have one last short conversation with Harry about you leaving, but it’s more like just a confirmation that yes, it is going to happen and that leaves you with only a few weeks left together before you are packing up to leave the country.
You spend every possible free minute together until graduation where you finally get your degree. Your whole family comes and they cheer on you proudly, Harry standing in the crowd a little farther in the back, but still with a proud smile, a hint of gloominess in his beautiful green eyes. A week later you officially move out of your shared apartment with the girls, it’s a sobbing goodbye since all three of you are leaving in different directions following your graduation. You spend your last two weeks before your departure at home, spending as much time with your family as possible since you won’t be able to see them too often once you leave. Though your mom is dying to take you to the airport to say her final goodbye, you decided to give that time to Harry. He said he would drive to your hometown, pick you up and take you to the airport and you already know it’s gonna turn you into an emotional mess.
Leaving everything behind is hard, but having to say goodbye to Harry is the worst. It’s been a whole emotional rollercoaster for the both of you to get to this point and neither of you are ready to say goodbye, but this is what needs to happen.
That morning, you hug your parents, sister and brother tightly after you load Harry’s car with your two huge suitcases that have your whole life packed in them. You asked your family not to ask any questions about Harry and luckily, they kept quiet the whole time he was there, just treating him as a friend. You couldn’t take having to explain to them who he really is and how you met him, that’s gonna be another conversation for the future when you don’t feel like you’re about to start crying the moment you open your mouth.
The ride to the airport is silent, Harry holds your hand, your glued together palms lying on your lap the whole time. You haven’t even left but you already miss him so much.
Arriving he helps you bring all your stuff inside and patiently waits until you check your baggage in, leaving you with just your carry-on. Standing near the security check, the final moment finally comes and as soon as you look into his eyes you start bawling your eyes out.
“Oh baby, come ‘ere,” he breathes out, pulling you into his arms.
“I’m so sorry, Harry. I told you we would make everything right, but I couldn’t,” you sob into his chest as he holds you tight. You feel like if he let go of you, you’d just turn into a puddle at his feet.
“It wasn’t your fault,” he soothes you, his fingers threading through your hair.
“But it feels like it was,” you choke out. Harry leans back and takes your puffy cheeks between his warm palms, looking deep into your eyes.
“It wasn’t. As you said, it was just a matter of wrong time and place. But I think we brought the best out of it.”
“So… you don’t regret it?” you softly ask, eyebrows knitted together in concern.
“Absolutely not,” he smiles at you kindly. “I loved every moment of it. And I love you.” You notice how he didn’t use past tense when he said he loves you and you can’t decide if it aches your heart more or fills you with joy. A little bit both of them.
“I love you too,” you whisper before pressing your lips against his, savoring them one last time before you leave everything behind.
“Maybe we’ll meet again,” he smiles sweetly when he pulls back, tugging your hair behind your ear with a gentle move.
“I really hope,” you chuckle through your tears. “Take care, Harry,” you tell him, pecking his lips just once more.
“You too, baby,” he smiles, his hands falling to his sides as he lets go of you.
Turning around you walk into security and as you go with the line towards the gates, you glance back one last time. Harry is standing in the exact same spot, eyes glued to you as he watches you disappear from his sight.
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It feels like the meeting is never coming to its end. You exchange a look with Jasmine, who seems just as tired and done with this two hours long discussion as you are. She grabs her phone from the table and you watch her something type out before she eyes at your device, signaling that she just texted you.
Jas: I need alcohol after this day. Want to have a drink with me after work?
Y/N: YES PLEASE!!!!!!!
You see her smile at her screen before both of you return to your boss at the front, talking about a possible upcoming case.
“And last but not least, I want to take a moment to bring light to the excellent work Y/N, our new full-time colleague did on the Santiago case. The police were highly satisfied with the fast and precise work you did. This was your first official case since you’ve decided to accept our offer to become a full member of our team and transferred from your position as a trainee. Congrats!” William, your boss nods in your way with a proud smile as a round of applause cheers for you from your colleagues.
“You go girl!” Jasmine mouths you from across the table and you just chuckle shaking your head.
The meeting finally wraps up and everyone goes on with their day. You are walking back to your office with Jasmine by your side. Your offices are next to each other and you started working here just three weeks apart. She is the same age as you and was approached the same way as well, it’s just that she moved all the way from Australia. The two of you have grown quite close, starting a new life at the same time in a foreign country, it easily brought you together.
“So are we leaving early for those drinks or what?” she asks poking your side.
“How early?”
“I don’t know, like fifteen minutes? Come on, it’s Friday, everyone leaves early!” You shake your head chuckling at her. She can be so restless sometimes, but it’s just the right amount that she can push you out of the comfort zone just enough.
“Alright.”
“Cool, I’ll come banging on your door,” she winks at you before disappearing for her usual coffee break.
It’s two in the afternoon, you still have a few hours ahead of you and some caffeine sounds perfect actually. Though the coffee at the office is excellent, you’ve grown to like this small place nearby, a family owned business that offers the best you’ve ever had.
You grab your bag from your office and head out for a quick coffee run. The walk to the café is freshening, the weather has been treating you well lately, the Sun is beaming and you can only hope you won’t wake up to pouring rain the next morning.
You think back to how lost you were feeling just a year ago, when all of this around you were so new and a little too much at once. One month into your time in London you even thought about quitting and moving back home. You felt alone and broken, yearning after everything you left behind. Your friends, family, loved ones, everything that was so far away from you.
It took you long weeks, even months to get used to your new life and now you can’t even imagine yourself anywhere else. It doesn’t miss you don’t miss terribly the life you had still, but now you have a lot to be happy about here as well.
Waiting at a crossroad, you find yourself twirling around the strawberry ring on your finger, your thumb fidgeting with it like every time you think about your home. You glance down at it and take a deep breath before the lamp turns green and you continue your walk to the café.
It’s not rush hours so there are only a few people lingering around the small place. You don’t have to think about what you are getting, James, the barista already knows your usual and starts making it right away as you swipe your card paying your drink.
You stand at the side, waiting for your coffee, staring out the window, watching people pass by on this lovely afternoon. Your gaze stops on an old lady sitting on a nearby bench, feeding a group of pigeons and you smile as a little girl runs through the birds, making them fly away instantly. The old lady just smiles at the girl, not holding a grudge that she just scared the birds away.
Your eyes move away, watching businessmen come and go, kids going home from school, wearing their school uniforms, everything just feels so… peaceful.
You are almost about to turn away from the window when your gaze falls on a tall figure near the Sainsbury’s across the road and your lips part as you catch a glimpse of a tattooed arm you know all too well. You blink once, twice, three times, waiting for your eyes to make sure it’s the person you think it is.
Harry is standing right there, holding a little bag of groceries, eyes glued to the screen of his phone, oblivious to your shocked gaze on him. Your feet move before your brain could think it through, they take you out of the café and you stand in the middle of the sidewalk as you call out for him.
“Harry!”
His head snaps up at his name, eyes looking around, searching for the source before they finally find you, a shocked, but seemingly joyful expression plastering over his handsome face. He is quick to shove his phone into his pocket before he watches both ways and runs across the road to meet you on the other side. You can’t push your smile down as you watch him approach you, his tall, fit figure getting closer and closer until he is standing right in front of you, watching you in awe.
“Hey,” he breathes out, both of you a little unsure of what to do, how to greet each other.
It’s been months since you last talked. After your departure you kept in contact, you couldn’t just distance yourself from him so abruptly, but the thousands of miles between the two of you made it almost impossible to maintain a working connection, the time zones, all the work you both were buried under and just life itself made you drift away from each other.
But he is now standing in front of you and though he looks slightly different, he is still the Harry you know and love. He is your Harry.
“What… what are you doing here?” you ask, finally finding your voice.
“Did you forget I’m British?” you teases you and you roll your eyes.
“I mean, are you visiting family or something?”
“I uhh…” he glances down at his feet before his eyes meet yours again. “I’m actually back.”
“What do you mean?”
“My contract ended in July and I didn’t… I didn’t extend it. I came back a few weeks ago.”
Your lips part at the information. Harry is in London, he is now in the same city as you, for the first time in a whole year.
“Really? That’s… wow.” There’s too much you want to tell and ask him, yet you stand there, blinking at him, still lost in the feeling of seeing him for the first time again.
“I actually wanted to contact you when I got back, but I wasn’t… I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about that,” he admits with a nervous chuckle and your eyes soften over him.
“What do you mean? I would have loved it if you called.”
“It’s just that we haven’t talked in a while and I didn’t know… I didn’t know where you’re standing about me.”
“Well, seems like fate did it for you,” you smile at him warmly. “I would love to catch up. I have to head back to work now, but maybe later?”
“What about after work? When are you getting off?”
“I finish at 5.”
“I can meet you at your work if you text me the address.”
“That would be great,” you nod smiling. “My number is still the same, so you’ll know it’s me.”
“Great,” he nods, the corners of his mouth curling up in a boyish smirk. You are just now realizing how much you’ve missed him.
“I, um…” You’re trying to find the right words, still feeling overwhelmed about the sudden run-in, but at last you decide to go for a hug.
Your arms wrap around his waist, he hesitates for a moment before wrapping you in his tight embrace, pressing his cheek against the top of your head. A shiver runs down your spine as the sense of home washes over you all at once, the warmth of Harry’s body making your heart flutter. Unfortunately, the moment must come to an end. His arms fall from around you, just like they did at the airport when you said goodbye to each other over a year ago.
“I’ll… see you later then,” he smiles as you are backing towards the entrance of the café.
“Yeah, later,” you nod and turning around you walk inside.
Arriving back to the office you drop by Jasmine’s office to tell her that you have to postpone your plans after work.
“What is more important than getting drunk with me?” she gasps dramatically.
“I ran into… I met Harry,” you tell her. You told her all about Harry one evening when you were out, just a few months into your stay. It was one of those days when you were feeling extremely homesick, or maybe you just missed him terribly.
“What? Your professor ex?” she asks with widened eyes.
“Yeah.”
“Okay, you are forgiven. Go and get the man back!”
“What?” you chuckle. “We just met after a year, how do you know I want him back? Maybe I just want to catch up with him,” you say, but it’s an obvious and blatant lie and you both know that. Jasmine gives you a look.
“Please, you are still so obviously in love with the man, don’t even try to convince me otherwise.”
You don’t protest, just bite into your bottom lip. You really are in love with him, or the version you knew a year ago. He could be an entirely different person now so you can’t be sure if your feelings are the same about the man you met today.
“Have fun with him and then tell me all about it after, okay?” she beams and you just nod, leaving her to finish her work.
As time is slowly passing by you find yourself growing nervous about seeing Harry. That short little conversation on the street was not enough to calm your nerves. What is he like now? Is he the same? Does he have new hobbies? Is he as happy to see you as you are to see him? What will he think of you? What if he doesn’t like you after all this time?
You try to push the questions to the back of your mind, not wanting to overwhelm yourself too much to the point where you chicken out of seeing him. When you’re on your way down following his text that he is waiting for you in front of the building, you are trying to keep yourself together and remind yourself that it’s just Harry, he might be a little different, but he is still kind of the same.
Luckily, the moment you spot him waiting a few feet away from the entrance, you forget about everything else, he is the only one to exist. He envelopes you in a hug when you arrive, smiling at you warmly.
“Hi, ready to go?” he kindly asks and you nod.
You settle for a nearby bar you’ve actually been to with Jasmine before. Harry insists on paying for the first round of drinks as the two of you settle in a secluded booth at the back. When he is standing at the bar you catch yourself watching him in awe. The situation is quite odd, could have never happened probably back home, the two of you casually out for a drink.
“What’s gotten you so smiley?” he asks upon returning, sitting across you.
“I was just thinking how this is the first time we are out, just the two of us.”
Harry smiles softly, probably appreciating it just the same.
The next couple of hours you both try to share anything and everything that has happened in the past year. He tells you about his last year as a professor and him not extending his contact. Coming back to London he has joined a research group for a marketing company, using his excellent knowledge to analyze human behavior in connection with different type of ads.
“It’s a lot different from being a college professor ain’t it?” you tease him and he nods chuckling.
“Guess I wanted some change. But it’s been nice, I enjoy doing a lot of research and experiments.”
Then you tell him about your time as a forensic document examiner, all the different cases you worked on and how it has been, living in London on your own. He listens to your tales about everything you’ve done with Jasmine, the concerts and karaoke bars you’ve been to and just generally your life overseas.
“Sounds like you’ve found your place, then,” he says smiling softly.
“I guess. Wasn’t an easy transition, but I’m feeling good now,” you nod. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss my past,” you add.
His eyes wander down to your hands that are fidgeting with your almost empty glass. You see how they stop over the ring and he seems surprised as he reaches out, takes your hand in his and runs his thumb over the little strawberries.
“You’re still wearing the ring,” he states.
“Of course,” you smile and when he is about to let go of your hand, you grab it and hold it, needing to feel his touch.
You wanted to run back home so many times because you were missing him too badly, missed his voice, his eyes, his touch, everything and now, out of nowhere, he is here with you again, far away from the place where it all started and had to end for a while, still making you feel like home, no matter where you are.
At one point, you move to sit beside him in the booth. You just keep sharing and sharing even things you’ve talked about on the phone before. You’re just soaking each other in. His arm soon moves around your shoulders and you gladly lean into his side, placing a hand to his thigh, sparkles running through your body.
“I love this,” you hum to yourself upon finishing your last drink.
“Love what?”
“Being out with you without a worry. I always dreamt of this and it’s just… so natural. I wish we got to experience it before.”
“As you said, that was a wrong time and place. Wasn’t our fault.”
You lift your head, eyes meeting his curious green irises as he smiles down at you kindly. You’ve missed that smile, it still makes your heart skip a beat, just like at the beginning.
“And do you think it’s the right time and place now?” you prompt the question.
“It’s definitely… better,” he chuckles softly. “Unless you are seeing someone, because now would be the best time to tell me.”
“I’m not,” you shake your head smirking. “Tried to go on dates, but truth is… none of them were you. I gave up after a few terrible attempts.”
“I didn’t even try,” he shyly smiles. “I just… knew no one would make me as happy as you did. As you always do.”
Pushing yourself up a bit, you rest your forehead against his as he closes his eyes, his arm around your shoulder tightens and his other hand rests on your thigh, pulling you closer. Your palm slides up his chest and neck until you’re cupping his cheek. You place a soft lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth, testing the waters out, seeing how he reacts though nothing that happened tonight tells you he wants to keep his distance.
He moves his face, nose nudging against you before his lips find yours in a kiss you’ve been longing for since you left him behind at the airport over a year ago. Your fingers lace through his hair, pulling him towards you as if he could escape from your hold any moment, but he is definitely here to stay. Your lips clash again and again, savoring each other, eagerly trying to make up for the time you lost since your departure. You melt into his arms, moving your legs across his lap as he pulls you to his lap in the booth, partially hidden from the rest of the bar, wrapped up in your little bubble. He tastes like home, his kisses feel like the first warm rays of sunshine after a long and cold winter, the only thing you couldn’t really get yourself over this whole year. Because you’ve become good at pushing your feelings down to the point where you could easily carry on, but he was always in the corner of your mind, making you wonder if you’ll ever meet again and if you do, will it be the same as before?
It’s not, because it’s better. The burdens and banters that tied you both down a year ago are now long gone, you have all the time and space in the world, nothing is restricting you. You can touch him and kiss him whenever and wherever you want. There’s no more sneaking around, no one here knows who you are and who Harry used to me to you. Here, you’re just another lovesick couple, so into each other it’s almost insane.
When he pulls back his forehead stays rested against yours as you both are trying to catch your breath. His hand runs up and down your thigh, the warmth of his palm melting your body under his soft touch.
“I love you,” he breathes out, eyes meeting yours.
“You still do?” you ask with a small smile, heart beating in your throat.
“I never stopped loving you,” he admits and you let out a shaky breath, pulling him down for a short kiss.
“Not even when I was an ocean away from you?”
“No,” he chuckles shaking his head. “If that’s possible, I loved you even more when you were away. I realized how much you mean to me and I could only hope you weren’t moving on without me.”
“I could never,” you smile at him softly. “I love you too much to do that.”
“You have no idea how much I missed you say that,” he breathes out with a soft chuckle and you kiss his lips shortly, assuring him that you feel the same way. “So… are we going to try again?”
“Do you want to?”
“There’s nothing I want more, baby,” he truthfully admits, his gaze softening at you as he brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Do you want to?”
“Of course,” you smile at him widely. “I think it’s settled.”
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thetoadghoul · 3 years
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Volunteering: (Ohtani x Reader) <333 (Part - 2)
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part 1!
plot: Wednesday’s game arrives which Ohtani invited you to, some bonding time before the first pitch <3 slowwwburn, long cause idk details are fun lol
Wednesday quickly arrived, made much faster by the crazy amount of work you were required to do for your ‘actual’ job. The last three days had been spent with you running around the LA area, as well as cyberspace, to serve your role as interpreter. It was hell, for more reasons than one. The biggest of all being that even though you were not in Japan at the moment, you were still required to wear a proper suit. That meant a tight navy skirt, stockings, and some blasted heels. Sexist men, long meetings, and endless paperwork aside, you enjoyed your job for the most part - but this aspect really wore on you. However, the pain in your feet wouldn't damper your excitement for tonight’s game. Today you were not actually volunteering at the Angels stadium.
The day before yesterday, when you were actually volunteering, a bashful Ohtani had tapped you on the back while you were picking up baseballs from the batting cages. When you turned around the giant man was holding out a lanyard with an attached document, marked ‘VIP Guest of Player’. It took all you had not to let your hands shake with nerves as you reached out and grabbed it gingerly.
“Uh, see you on Wednesday.” The man looked to the side awkwardly, running a hand through his hair.
“...Yeah.” You responded with a small smile, feeling stupid, but it was all you could think of.
“Well, uh, I better go...” He motioned behind his back with a lazy thumb, staring to jog backward.
You nodded quickly, rushing to go back to picking up balls before you said something super lame, or weird.
It wasn’t till you were on the way home did you take a look at the back of the stadium pass. It read ‘Guest of Shohei Ohtani’. So he had put in the request for you, that was just like him, so kind. It would be an understatement to say you weren’t excited for tomorrow.
-----
Currently, your heart was still racing, but for another reason other than a certain super cute and insanely talented baseball player. It was because it was almost three-thirty in the afternoon and you were running around your company-provided apartment, trying to get ready as fast as you could. Ippei let you know you should get there around four-thirty, by then the team would have been done warming up and starting to enjoy a pregame meal while the away team got the field to themselves. From that point onwards, pretty much everyone was free to relax in the clubhouse till just before the first pitch.
With little time to consider, not even enough time to take a shower after having just got off work, you went with an oversized red T-shirt, baggy jeans, and some cool Jordan’s. This was your go-to, and it was comfortable. You don’t have many clothes anyway, living out of a suitcase.
Right as you were about to run out of the door you remembered to grab your standard Angels cap, it had been provided to you as part of your volunteer uniform a while back, slipping it on over your tight work bun. You would let your hair down later.
All right, everything was in order, Uber scheduled, lanyard secured.
It took about half an hour to arrive at the stadium, and once it came into view, you instructed the driver to let you out in front of the ballpark entrance. It had been a long time since you got to go through the gates as a member of the audience, it actually gave you a wave of nostalgia seeing everyone in their gear, so hyped up for the game, tailing gating outside for what was probably hours.
Once you were through, you started walking through the concession stands and various other stalls, dodging around the fans that were already inside watching the warm-ups, as well as hanging out drinking and eating. There were pictures of Ohtani everywhere, people taking turns snapping pictures of each other in front of the various cutouts of him. The air was buzzing with energy, and it seemed like all for that guy. Honestly, you had worked for a couple different teams over the years, but you had never seen hype like this. It was surreal, seeing a legend in the making.
You smiled, gripping the lanyard around your neck, making your way through the stadium. Shohei was super nice to do this for you, really, you should show him your support. Maybe a quick peek in the team store would do? Plus, you deserved to spend some money on yourself. After all, this was the first time you had really been ‘out’ in the almost three months you had been in California. Your free time was either working, volunteering, video games, or sleep.
You took a couple moments in the Angel's merch shop, quietly perusing the aisles, keeping an eye out for any Ohtani-themed items. Unfortunately, there weren’t really that many, probably sold out by the fans. What was there, was way too small for you.
“Y/n, you here to watch the game?” A young voice sounded.
When you turned to see who addressed you, a familiar girl was standing there grinning.
“Hey Jordan! I didn’t know you were working tonight.” You grinned back.
Jordan worked at the store as a stock manager, she was close in age to you so the two of you often hung out. You had invited her over a couple times, both bonding over your love for crappy reality TV, beer, and of course, baseball.
“Yeah it was last minute, a girl was feeling sick and there wasn’t anyone else cept’ me.” She sighed.
“Bummer, text me if you need help?” You offered, to which she waved you off.
“Nah, you enjoy being here and NOT working.” She chuckled, walking over to organize a messy shelf.
“So, you looking for something in particular?” The girl glanced over her shoulder.
“Uh yeah, you recommend any cool Ohtani stuff? Or is there any at all... seems wiped clean in here.” You said while looking around.
“Ohtani? You here to cheer him on too then. Wanna catch his eye.” She teased.
“Don’t say it like I’m just here for my like, prince charming.” You snapped back playfully, but, maybe a little too fast.
“Aren’t you?” She pressed with an eyebrow.
“Okay, I’m leaving.” You pouted, fake walking away.
“I’m just kidding, actually, stay here for a second I might have something you’ll like.” Jordan yelled as she jogged off to the back room behind the counters.
You did as you were told and when she came back there was a large white Angels jersey in her hands.
“Ta-da!” She grinned, twisting it around to show the player’s name on the back.
“Oh, it’s in Kanji? That’s cool, I didn’t know these existed?” You questioned, running your finger over the ‘tani’ character of Ohtani.
“It’s the last one on the floor, had to grab it off the mannequin. Hope it’s not too big? It’s XL?” She questioned, passing it to you to hold.
“Nah it’s perfect, can’t you tell.” You joked holding the jersey next to you, while you showed off your oversized clothes.
“Figured it'd be fine, wanna get rung up? I’ll give you that ‘good good’ employee discount. But, don’t tell anyone.” She smiled, heading to the register, to which you nodded and jogged after her.
After you finished your purchase and waved bye to Jordan, it was time to head to the clubhouse. It was around five, so you were later than you planned but Shohei usually practiced batting in the cages a little while longer while everyone headed in. Slipping the plastic shopping bag into your purse, and ripping the tags off your new jersey, you slipped it on over your T-shirt, smoothing out the material as best you could. It felt great to finally have some real merch from the team, and part of you sort of wondered what Ohtani would think when he saw you. Hopefully, it wasn’t too much to just show up in his gear after he pretty much randomly invited you, let alone in the stadium-specific one, as you just learned from your colleague.
After you got to an employee-only doorway, you pushed on it hoping it was actually open. Ippei had also let you know via text that it would be unlocked for you. Another kindness of Shohei, not just inviting you, but making sure you had access to all the catering and AC inside the resisted area of the building. You slipped in and locked the door behind you, not wanting to encourage some intoxicated fans to follow. The hallway was empty and cool as you started making your way to the clubhouse.
You were admittedly a bit nervous by the time you got to the doors, feeling a bit awkward about strutting in as anyone other than a volunteer for the first time. Carefully you pushed open the door, making sure not to hit anybody. The room was full of chatter, some players eating, some playing cards, others watching TV on the room's monitors. You looked around for Ohtani, but he wasn’t there yet apparently. No matter, you strolled in and went for the snack area. Truthfully you hadn’t eaten since that morning, and that was just a toasted bagel. Turning your back to the rest of the room, you began filling up your plate with cocktail shrimp and grapes.
“Nice jersey.” Ippei said, coming up next to you, grabbing small sandwiches for his plate.
“Is that sarcastic?” You questioned with a smile, finishing your plate.
“Nah, I’m sure he likes it.” Ippei jerked his head to the left.
He? You leaned back to see around the man, meeting Shohei’s surprised face almost immediately. Had he been standing there the whole time? He had obviously been staring at your back, at his name, bashfully looking up to your face when you moved, blinking a couple times to clear his eyes.
“I uh, got it ten minutes ago.” You grinned awkwardly, pointing your thumb proudly at the jersey, hoping he wouldn’t think you were a weirdo.
The large player didn’t say anything, blinking more slowly this time before opting to just nod gently, with a quick “thanks for your support”, hurriedly leaning forward to start filling his plate with all kinds of foods.
—-
Once everyone had their food the three of you found a place to sit while you ate, it was at the back of the room away from the noise, and where the two usually sat before a game anyways. A small conversation started while the three of you ate calmly.
“Why... do you only have grapes, and shrimp?” Ohtani questioned suddenly, looking at your plate baffled. You looked down at it as well, pausing for a moment trying to find out what was so weird about that.
“Uh, well, it’s because... these things are... super expensive in Tokyo. It’s like a rich person food to me.” You smiled, eating a couple shrimps happily.
“Wow. That’s so sad.” Ippei chuckled before taking a bite of his sandwich.
Shohei on the other hand burst out laughing at your response, making you laugh a bit too at your pitiful confession.
“Seriously, I feel like a mega-rich, and very posh, Ginza lady right now - eating nothing but shrimp and fruit. So fancy right? ” You exclaimed, popping a grape in your mouth.
The Japanese player laughed even harder, tears building up as he wiped his eyes.
“Those people wouldn’t touch that stuff with a three-meter stick.” Ippei stated, letting out a small laugh.
“Just let me have my moment.” You pouted through a smile, shoving more shrimp in your mouth.
The other man calmed down finally and was now sitting there smiling while he ate.
“So, fancy y/n, are you okay to sit in the dugout tonight. Not too unrefined for you?” Ippei questioned with a smirk.
“That’s, allowed?” You asked, surprised.
“Yeah, if you want to. Can’t stay there the whole time, but.” The man responded nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders.
“It’s the best place to hear, ‘the surprise’.” Shohei added, food in the process of being shoved in his mouth.
“Well, doesn’t seem like there’s any other option.” You smiled at the player, who nodded in acknowledgment.
“He’s batting first tonight, you won’t have to wait long.” Ippei spoke, starting on the next sandwich.
“Hope me being in there won’t be bad luck.” You joked.
“You believe in that?” Ippei smirked.
“My family ingrained it into me, wasn’t allowed to watch a single super bowl game in the living room till I literally moved out.” You frowned, stabbing a grape.
“Harsh.” The man smirked with a small laugh under his breath.
“You will be good luck, for sure.” Shohei leaned forward in a hunch to take another bite of food, smiling sincerely at you as he looked up from his food.
“Then, I will see to it that will become a very good omen. Please believe in me.” You responded in the highest form of keigo you knew, bowing rigidly from your seat for comedic effect. Since you never studied that level of grammar, it was really freaking bad, causing the two men to laugh again.
“You’re funny.” Ippei chuckled.
“Yeah, and your Japanese is so good though?” Shohei exclaimed, eyebrows raised, eyes wide.
“Nah it’s pretty bad, I fell off the study wagon a long time ago.” You laughed awkwardly, waving a hand in front of your face.
“You’d be there forever if you stayed on.” Ippei chuckled again, while Shohei nodded in sullen agreement.
“Writing would be nice though, having to look up every other kanji at the doctor's office, or like city hall makes me literally sweat, like, a lot. Buckets. But when I look around, I'm the only one.” You giggled.
“You’re so honest.” Shohei chuckled, wiping his mouth with a napkin, still leaning forward in his chair, you grinned back at him. Your eyes locked for a while, you had never noticed, but his eyelashes were sort of long.
At that moment Ippei had to take a call, letting the two of you know he’d be back in a bit, walking off. The two of you looked away and finished eating in silence.
When you looked up from your empty plate, the large player was now staring at you with a soft expression. The warmth in his eyes made you blush, he didn’t even break his gaze once he was caught like he usually did. You responded back to him simply with a shy smile, before being the one to avert your own eyes to the floor again.
Thankfully at that moment, a group of Angels came over, slapping the Japanese man on the back, starting up a conversion. They were going over strategies for the game and overall just getting hyped up. You didn’t have much to input, so you just kind of sat there enjoying the excited chatter. Shohei smiled merrily the whole time, inserting little jokes, completely affected by their excitement. The way he carried himself really reminded you that the essence of baseball was really just about having fun with your teammates and giving it your all. He looked simply happy to be there, and it made you smile too, just watching him goof off. It was charming to see his duality of being a just big kid with endless laugher, versus the super-serious, and seasoned player he was on the mound.
You were really trying hard not to but, you were rapidly developing feelings for Shohei. The last three months of volunteering here, you of course thought he was really cute and kind, classic boyfriend material. A simple crush, like many of the girls working around him, surely had as well. However the possibility of you two actually dating had always been a foreign concept, one which stopped you from even considering it, at all, you just didn’t know if you even could. With you both traveling for work, how would there be time? Plus, what about the media? His family? Yours? All those things seemed unscalable walls, that is, until this moment, when you could feel his gentle eyes on you once again.
Maybe, there was something? Or maybe, he was just a super nice guy, and you were treated no different than anyone else.
When you snapped out of your thoughts, Shohei was starting to stand up, grabbing everyone’s empties plates. He reached his hand towards you, asking for the one in your hand with a tiny nod of his head, to which you thanked him, stood up, and handed it over.
Well.
Either way, you were so screwed.
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Hope you enjoyed! <3
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entertainment · 4 years
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Entertainment Spotlight: Bethany Antonia, Get Even
British actress Bethany Antonia plays Margot Rivers in Get Even, a new thriller series adapted from Gretchen McNeil’s Don’t Get Mad books. The show follows a group of girls who come together as DGM (Don’t Get Mad) to expose school bullies; when they realize they’re being framed for the murder of one of their targets, they set out to uncover the truth. Bethany spent her formative years in rural France, before returning to her hometown of Birmingham, UK, as a teen, and landing her first role in a short film of The Tempest for The Shakespeare Birthplace Trust. She went on to land roles on TV in BBC’s Doctors and Channel 4’s Stath Lets Flats, and in the film Pin Cushion, which premiered at the 74th Venice International Film Festival. Bethany is an advocate for social justice issues such as the Black Lives Matter movement, LGBTQIA+ rights, veganism, wildlife conservation, and sustainable living practices. 
What kind of research did you do for the role of Margot? Had you read the books before taking the role?
I read both of the books! I read them once after my first callback for the show, and then again while we were filming. I absolutely love the books. There’s something so special about doing a series that’s based on a book and flying through trying to find out what’s going to happen to your character. Margot is also the only American in a British school, so I spent a lot of time thinking about her background and trying to piece together what her story was before we meet her as part of DGM.
Margot is described as shy, but she’s also the brains behind a group that seeks to stop bullying. What drew you to the role?
I got attached to Margot right off the back of reading the audition sides. Her character is everything I wished I’d gotten to see more of when I was younger. A young black girl who is shy, into gaming, and isn’t sassy or argumentative in a lead role? Sign me UP. I just adored the concept for the entire show. I loved the idea of these four teenage girls setting up a secret society in their school because straight away, I saw the bigger picture of what they were doing. It’s telling young girls to stand up for what they believe in and not to be afraid to take matters into their own hands despite living in a world that repeatedly tells them to do otherwise. It felt so empowering, and I was just so determined to be a part of it.
When you hear Black Excellence, what or who comes to mind?
Black Excellence for me is confidence. It’s power and resilience. It’s excelling in your particular area of the industry and leading by an example that others can follow. When I think of black excellence, I think of Michaela Coel, a woman who is completely changing the game in the industry right now. I have been a massive fan of hers since watching her first show, Chewing Gum, but I am so glad she is getting the global recognition she deserves off the back of I May Destroy You. It was one of the best pieces of television I have ever seen.
What role do you think film/tv/radio should have regarding social realities in Britain? What needs to change?
I think that every single form of media should be an accurate depiction of the world we live in. Any individual should be able to tune in at any given time and see themselves represented in some way, shape, or form. Anything less than that, and we have failed. We have been failing for a really long time in Britain. Tuning into the media has felt like an artist painting a blank canvas paint with little droplets of colour for effect for too long. We need to move away from the idea that the stories of white, straight, slim, able-bodied people are the only stories that need to be told, and start reflecting the realities of our country, which is so beautifully diverse.
How do you deal with a bad day, and how do you like to celebrate the good ones?
If I’m having a bad day, I like to do a complete reset: switch off from social media for a few hours, take a hot bath with a face mask or two, pamper myself, listen to a podcast or read a really good book, eat some of my favourite foods, and just take care of myself. Finding time to practice self-care for yourself is something I think is really important. So I do a complete brain reset and remind myself that tomorrow is a brand new day, and none of the day’s bad-day energy has to carry itself onto the next. I like to celebrate the good ones with my family and friends around me, making sure I’m really present and enjoying the moment, being grateful for whatever it is we’re celebrating.
Do you have any advice for young Black women looking to get into acting?
I’d love to get a whole room full of young Black women together and just tell them over and over again that they’re enough. This industry can feel impossible to break into for most up and coming actors, but for Black women, that’s especially true. It’s hard to envision yourself in a career that hasn’t been visible for you. Breaking down the door is only half of the battle. Once you’re in, there’s a million and one more challenges that come as a direct result of being a Black woman. I’d tell them to find confidence in themselves and their abilities, the kind of confidence that comes from within that nobody can take away from them, even if they have to fake it at first. I’d tell them to be proactive and take their careers into their own hands, to look into what they’re doing now and consider if it’s truly benefitting them for the kind of work they want to be doing. And finally, I would tell them to cling onto their love of acting with everything they have. Even if it feels like you’re not hitting the kind of goals you want to be hitting yet. Nobody can take your love of this craft away from you.
If you could choose any book that you’ve read to be adapted into film or tv, which book would you choose, and who would you play?
I read an amazing book recently called While I Was Sleeping by Dani Atkins, and I’ve not stopped thinking about it for weeks. It’s about this young girl named Maddie who wakes up from a coma thinking a few minutes have passed, but actually, six YEARS have passed. She was due to be married and have a baby, and she wakes up to find that her whole life has essentially happened without her while she’s been asleep. In my head, the whole book has already played out as a film over and over, with me as Maddie, ha! It could be so beautifully adapted.
Which song always manages to get you up in the morning?
“You Can Get It If You Really Want” by Desmond Decker. Every single time.
Thanks for taking the time, Bethany! Get Even is now streaming on Netflix.
Photo: Michael Shelford
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sgwrscrsh · 4 years
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winter days: underneath the tree
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☁️a/n☁️ this made my heart very warm to write even though i pulled an all-nighter to get it done because my time-management has gone to shit after finals. requested by @sachirou-senpai​. thank you, ellie, for giving me a reason to bring back my boys. i’ve missed ‘summer on you’ so much. this can be read as a stand-alone or as a spin off of ending b, my fave. either way, merry christmas to my babes who celebrate! i have one more christmas fic for tmr and then i’m hiding away to plan + write an smau.
includes: female!reader, poly!seijoh four, post-timeskip (very minor manga spoilers), lots of domesticity, a little suggestive bit, a lot of eating and sleeping now that i realize, a christmas tree, matching pajamas, a very special christmas gift, makki slapping your ass once, a lil teary moment w tooru, homemade curry + pancakes (but not together), lots of cuddling, lots of love, happy holidays, 4.35k words
☁️masterlist☁️
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shivering slightly, you unlock the door to the rather spacious apartment you shared with your four boyfriends later into the evening than you would’ve liked. 
yes, four boyfriends. whom you love very much and are loved by in return.
living with four towering hunks has it’s ups and downs, but you wouldn’t trade tooru’s extensive skin care regiment sprawled across the bathroom counter; hajime’s bag of protein powder that he always forgets to put away; issei’s boots that you always tripped over when you came through the front door; or takahiro’s costco-sized box of cream puffs in the freezer that he insisted he would finish by the end of the month, almost half a year ago, for the world.
you made sure to stomp off the snow stuck on your boots before entering the building, but you couldn’t help but sigh at the warmth that greets you once you toe them off.
“ahhh,” you think. “thank goodness tooru convinced us to invest in heated floors.” another perk of having four boyfriends was that two of them brought in enough bank for you to seriously consider becoming their cute little housewife. snorting, you shake your head, though the idea of prancing around in a maid outfit to tease them seemed very appealing. “maybe we should make hiro dress up and clean the house since he still hasn’t found a new job yet.” 
“what’s so funny, sweets?” speak of the devil. makki’s head pops out from the bathroom nearest to the front door, steam rolling out and droplets falling from his hair, signifying that he had just taken a hot shower. wordlessly, you stare at him, lost in thought imagining the water caressing his toned body, but a second later, he gets a better look at you and laughs. “you look like a wet dog!” your glare loses some of its edge when he takes in your own damp strands. 
“did someone say something about a dog?” tooru comes bounding round the corner, and you could’ve sworn he drooped a little when he realized it was just you in the hallway sans dog. turning your icy glance on the setter, you open your mouth to complain about how mean the two of them were being to you when your prince charming comes in to save the day.
“you two, stop bullying the poor girl and let her take a warm bath before she gets sick!” iwa chides as he helps you unbundle the layers that protected you from the snow and sharp winds of the winter. pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead and promising to pick out comfy clothes for you, he ushers you into your spacious en suite where a steaming tub full of rose petals awaits you. hajime chuckles at the starry eyes you give him, heart warming at the love and appreciation shining clear as day on your face, before he leaves to grab a clean pair of underwear, one of issei’s t-shirts, and a pair of his own sweats, knowing you much prefer to wear their clothes at home.
submerged in the bath, you exhale contentedly, eyelids fluttering shut as you enjoy the product of iwa’s consideration and foresight. letting the stress of work and the chill of the outdoors melt from you, you stay in the water until it cools and your fingers prune. a lone thought of how much more you would’ve enjoyed the bath if the boys had joined you flits through your mind, but you jolt when you open your eyes and find issei sitting on the counter with a towel and your robe in his lap, some of the water sloshing over the side of the tub. 
“oh thank god, i was scared you fell asleep and would drown or choke on a rose petal.” you giggle while he wraps you up in your robe before gently toweling your hair dry. “you can’t leave me to deal with the three of them alone.” 
rolling your eyes, you retort easily, “if anything, i’d feel bad about leaving hajime to deal with the three of you alone. the poor man puts up with enough from his team, he doesn’t need you guys ganging up on him, too.”
“well i’ll have you know, sometimes he really enjoys us ganging up on him.” his cheeky quip paired with his wiggling eyebrows earns him a smack on the chest but regardless, you let him sweep you up into his arms and drop you on the massive bed the five of you shared. “get dressed, babygirl. as much as i’d love to spend more time with you naked, i gotta help haji finish dinner.” with a quick peck on your lips, issei leaves you to do just as he said. 
emerging revitalized and relaxed, your mouth waters at the smell of homemade curry, distracted enough to not notice tooru’s arms wrapping around your shoulders and waist. 
“hey, cutie, i’ve missed you,” he sings, face snuggled into the junction of your shoulder and neck. you spin around in his hold to slip your arms around his slim torso, relishing his firm lines against your soft curves. 
“‘ve missed you too, tooru.” and you really did, grateful that all of you were able to take time off work and he was able to come home a week before the holidays, giving the five of you a whole month to spend together before he had to jet back to argentina for his next bout of training and practice games.
“hell yea! group hug!” makki comes running towards you guys, only for you to twist out of his reach at the last second, sending him straight into the sofa behind you. “oof, that was cold, y/n.”
you stick your tongue out at the strawberry boy. “yea, well that’s what you get for laughing at me when i got home. sucker.” still entangled in tooru’s embrace, you feel his body shake with mirth and bite the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from dissolving into giggles when you see a pout take over hiro’s pretty face.
“dinner’s ready,” comes iwa’s call, beckoning the three of you into the kitchen before you could antagonize each other some more. once you all got your servings of curry, you settle into your proclaimed seats on the large sofa, your body comically small compared to their tall frames dwarfing the cushions. noting the way tooru threw his long legs over iwa’s and how mattsun and makki leaned against each other as they ate, you fold your legs to tuck your feet under takahiro’s thigh and dig in to your meal with some trashy reality show lighting up the tv screen, completely certain that the warmth in your chest was from the company of your loved ones more so than the piping hot potatoes in your stomach.
during breakfast the next day, you blearily rub the sleep out of your eyes before taking a sip of your coffee, a satisfied “ahhh” escaping your parted lips as you lean against the kitchen counter. slowly peeling your eyelids open, you notice all of their gazes were focused on you. “yes? can i help you?” you ask amusedly, awake now that caffeine had be introduced to your tired body.
“how are you still so gorgeous in the morning?” you blink at the dreamy look on iwa’s face propped up in his hands with his elbows on the surface of the island. looking around, you see the other three matching the athletic trainer’s pose and expression next to him. thinking over your messy bedhead, mysteriously stained pajamas, and almost impressively dark eyebags, you want to scoff, but the unfairly handsome men giving you their undivided attention despite all of that (“because of all of that, y/n-chan,” tooru would argue) make you blush instead.
“you’re one to talk, haji,” you opt to remark, hoping to divert their focus from you and your rosy cheeks. “and don’t look at me like that,” your pointed finger swinging wildly between the four of them like the needle of a compass. “you already know you guys are way outta my league, you don’t need me to tell you that.” with one last flourish, you wave your hand dismissively before grabbing your mug with both hands, palms warming against the ceramic.
“as wrong as you are, you can’t blame us for wanting to hear the love of our lives compliment us first thing in the morning as we admire her natural beauty,” mattsun grins once he sees the success his words have at deepening the flush on your face. tooru nods gravely in agreement, but it’s makki’s one-two combo of a wink and an air kiss that breaks you. you roll your bottom lip between your teeth to stifle a laugh but release it immediately when the playful atmosphere takes a heady turn. clearing your throat, you pay no heed to their hungry expressions, knowing full well that they all noticed your little action and how they would react to it.
“a-anyways,” you stutter, “i’m gonna go get ready ‘cause i have things to do today so-” you try to slip by, leaving your empty cup in the sink, only to get caught in your tracks by hiro’s long arms. 
“ah, ah, ah, princess. and where do you think you’re going?” soon enough, you find yourself surrounded by your smoking hot boyfriends and heat up in anticipation of their next moves. 
“this so isn’t fair,” you complain aloud, though you were just as eager as they were to get you out of your worn sleep clothes. 
“tough shit, babygirl. guess you’re just gonna have to add four more things to your to-do list, huh?” 
naturally, you leave your errands for some day later in the week when you’re able to walk properly again.
the opportunity comes when you rise earlier than the rest of them, a rare occasion where you found yourself graced with the freedom of sleeping on the outside instead of being sandwiched in the middle of the bed. tiptoeing about, you brush your teeth and get dressed, somehow managing to not wake any of the sleeping beauties. you scribble little love-filled messages on post-it notes and stick them around your apartment on your way out, but not without one last soft smile in the direction of the bedroom, the sight of the four of them cuddled together through the door left ajar renewing your motivation to accomplish your tasks and come home sooner. 
with your laptop bag in tow, you set out for your first destination, settling into a corner booth at the coffee shop with a full cup and a pastry. once you finish your breakfast, you pull out your laptop and get to work, scouring the internet for the perfect gifts for your lovably imperfect partners. you rack your brain for any recollection of any moment where they would’ve let a potential present slip into conversation and light up when you come across volleyball print pajama pants. you check the availability of the sizes you needed and upon realizing that they were all in stock and would be delivered before christmas, you place your order without a moment’s hesitation. satisfied with your progress, you pull up the animal shelter’s hours before heading out of the cafe, the barista’s greetings and the jingling bells echoing behind you. 
by the time you return home, it’s late in the afternoon and you’re greeted by a wall of warm bodies as soon as you step through the front door. 
“where’ve you been, babe?” once again, takahiro is the first to meet your return, but this time he plants a sweet kiss on your lips with his long fingers encircling your waist after his inquiry. 
“oh, you know,” you sigh, dazed from the saccharine embrace. “out and about.”
“busy day? hope it was productive.” you nuzzle into tooru’s chest, feeling the timbre of his voice through your skin, and nod.
“as a matter of fact, it was.” their eyes soften at the proud grin stretched across your face. but your grumbling stomach just had to ruin the moment, making the three of you stare at each other before bursting out in chuckles.
“you skipped lunch?” oiks asks, wrapping each arm around yours and hiro’s waists and guiding you into the kitchen. you rub the back of your neck sheepishly.
“i guess so? i didn’t really notice i was hungry until now.”
“good thing we saved your favorite from that chinese place down the street for you,” mattsun comes up behind you and lands a kiss on the crown of your head. you beam gratefully up at him and skip over to the fridge to retrieve the takeout.
“welcome home, love,” iwaizumi emerges from the bathroom to complete the set and gives you a once over. “you look tired.”
“gee thanks, hajime.” he rolls his eyes playfully at you while you wait for your food to heat up in the microwave.
“what time did you get up this morning?” 
“uhhh,” you start, mouth full. at iwa’s stern glare, you swallow before answering, “seven-ish? earlier than i would’ve like for a vacation day but it was worth it.”
“hm, well i’m glad you had a good day at least.” you shuffle over to kiss his cheek before dropping yourself on top of where tooru and hiro were cuddling on the sofa, eyes drifting around the room to take in the holiday decorations adorning the space.
“thanks, haji. but you’re right, i am sleepy.” suppressing a yawn, you lean back against the broad chests behind you and tuck back into the paper container. “can we take a nap once i’m done?”
“sure thing, babygirl.” the innocent smile mattsun sends your way turns mischievous with his added comment. “we really tuckered ourselves out while you were gone.” you nearly choke but makki’s hand thumping your back helps you dislodge whatever food got caught in your throat. iwa shakes his head and looks to the side in an attempt to hide his face, but the reddening tips of his ears give him away. meanwhile, oikawa catches your eye and winks.
“how else did you suppose we keep ourselves occupied when our baby wasn’t home?” you get up to toss your now empty container, shaking your head as you go. 
“i’m glad to see you at least got the christmas tree up before going at it. god, you’re all insatiable.”
“i mean, it’s hard not to be in this relationship,” hajime grumbles.
“aww, iwa,” makki pushes his lips into an overexaggerated pout. “you make me hard, too.” full-bellied chortles escape the four of you, ignoring iwaizumi’s indignant huffs.
“whatever,” comes his miffed reply, but you know he takes all your antics in stride. soon enough, he returns to the living room with a stack of blankets and finds you and issei added to the pile of limbs tooru and hiro founded. somehow, hajime situates himself to fit perfectly in your cuddle fest, blankets sprawled about to keep you warm.
one last yawn leaves your mouth before you mutter a sleepy, “night, guys. love you,” barely registering the quiet “love you”s you get in return as you drift off, the lights adorning your christmas tree twinkling above you.
christmas day, you wake up before the others again, this time more than willing to feign sleep and revel in the warmth of your shared bed. luckily, you don’t have to wait long for your boys to stir. sitting up, you stretch your arms above you head and begin to climb out of bed only to be caught by the wrist and dragged back down.
“haji, please,” you draw out. “we can finally open the presents under the tree!”
“i don’t care, it’s too early for you to leave me, princess.” you hum as he pulls you closer to him, revisiting your mental note that iwa is much more openly (and selfishly) affectionate in the mornings. 
“oi, the rest of us are still here you know.” face buried against tooru’s back, mattsun’s muffled complaint gets hajime to loosen his hold on you. 
“yea, yea,” he props himself up on his elbow to lean over you and kisses the former middle blocker’s temple. “unfortunately.”
“so mean, iwa-chan,” oikawa pipes up, stretching his arm across you to caress your boyfriend’s toned arm before lacing his fingers with makki’s. the pink haired man himself, still half-asleep, squeezes tooru’s hand before sitting up.
“hey, wait. it’s christmas, isn’t it?” takahiro’s question reminds you of the package you received a couple days prior, prompting you to spring out of bed before one of them could reel you back in. the four watch you rifle through the closet and resurface with the pajama pants you ordered.
“merry christmas!” you cry excitedly, tossing each boy their respective pair and eagerly awaiting their reactions. “they’re matching pj’s! look, i got one for myself, too.” thankful that you chose to go to bed in just one of iwa’s godzilla t-shirts and underwear last night, you rush to slip on your volleyball print pants. the boys take in your childlike joy, chests tightening at how precious you are. “hurry up, i want you to try them on so we can match!” at your insistence, they roll out of bed and dutifully don your gifts. 
“oh these are actually really soft,” tooru murmurs thoughtfully, fingering the fabric on his thigh.
“right?” you pipe up, nearly bouncing off the walls. “i wanted to do something to commemorate our first christmas together in this apartment and i thought these were really cute since volleyball is what brought us together in the first place.” eyes meet each other as you all reminisce that special summer, grateful that you stayed close despite your individual journeys after graduation.
suddenly, the doorbell ringing catches your attention. a brief glance at the clock on the bedside table tells you it’s much later in the morning than you though, but you’re quick to answer the door.
“who could that be?” the boys are left wondering, wandering out into the living room in time to see you wave goodbye to whoever it was with a large gift-wrapped box sitting on the floor next to you. 
“babe? who was it?” tooru is the first to ask the question on all of their minds. 
“oh, just my best friend. they wanted to drop this off on their way to their parents’ house.” you gingerly pick up the box and bring it to where your boys were waiting for you. “go ahead!”
“go ahead?” hajime parrots. 
“yea! open it!”
“it’s not for you?” takahiro ponders.
“well yes and no. c’mon just open it already!” you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet at this point. tooru finally takes the initiative to remove the lid of the box, eyes widening when he sees what it hid.
“oh my gosh,” he breathes. the other three nearly knock heads with how quickly they lean over the opening.
“is that-?” a furry little head pops up over the edge of the box, round eyes peering up at the four of them.
“a dog! yes!” you squeal. “he’s a shelter dog!”
“he is?” hiro is in awe, slowly reaching out to cradle the little guy in his arms.
“i met him the other day when i woke up early and ran errands without you guys. isn’t he just the cutest?” big hands dwarf the small pooch as they gently pet his head and stroke his fur.
“does he have a name?” tooru has the good sense to ask. 
“mhm, the lady at the shelter said his previous owner named him ponyo.”
“ponyo…” issei whispered, eyes shining. 
“i know we’re nowhere near ready to start thinking about kids,” you start, the topic of the conversation instantly drawing their attention. tooru even ignored ponyo’s little tongue lapping at his fingers. “but i thought we could use an addition to our family.” 
“y/n, princess, we obviously all love him already, but we’re busy with work- well, most of us are. who’s gonna take care of him?” hajime questions, almost reluctantly.
“i mean, hiro is home all the time since he’s still unemployed (“i said i was looking, damn!”), but i actually got promoted so my schedule is way more flexible and i can work from home most of the time.” your voice trails off bashfully, but they give you no time to be embarrassed, swallowing you up in a huge hug. 
“why didn’t you say anything sooner, baby? we’re so proud of you!” now you know how the dog felt being smothered by their affection, not that it was anything new for you.
“uhh, surprise?”
“fuck yea, surprise! god, you’re incredible. lemme make a list of things we’ll need to get for ponyo once the stores reopen tomorrow.”
“actually…”
“you didn’t.”
“i did, with help from my best friend.” going into the lowest cupboards in the kitchen, you show off the bag of dog food and water and food bowls you bought soon after visiting the shelter. “his bed and crate are in the other closet by the washroom.”
“how did we get so lucky?” takahiro asks aloud, making you blush as the others nod in sync, all of them blown away by your thoughtfulness.
“this is nothing. i just wanted to show you guys how much i love you.” you play with your fingers, a little overwhelmed now that the initial excitement has worn off. “oh wait!”
“there’s more?” tooru asks, shocked.
“but wait, there’s more!” mattsun and makki chime in simultaneously, making you laugh as you retrieve the last present. you hop over to where tooru was sitting on the sofa with ponyo on his lap, scooping the dog up and locking the two of you in the bathroom. a couple minutes later, you open the door to let ponyo scurry over to his dads, who coo softly once they see him come around the sofa.
“when did you have time to do this?”
“my pants were a little long, so i hemmed them one night after you guys passed out on the sofa watching your old volleyball matches. i kinda guessed ponyo’s measurements based on standard info i found on the internet, but it fits perfectly so i’m glad!” looking at the little sweater you made for your new family member out of the extra fabric from your pj pants, you couldn’t stop the pleased grin that broke out on your face. “now even ponyo matches with us!”
while your gaze was trained on the tiny dog that was exploring his new home, theirs were stuck on you, your resemblance with a proud mother struck something in them, giving them thoughts of you with their children. yes, children. but for now they shoved those images to the backs of their minds, meeting each other’s stares to confirm they were all in silent agreement.
“we’re gonna make breakfast, you just sit there ‘n look pretty while you watch ponyo, yea?” issei announces before pulling you into a searing kiss as he walks by. 
“not that that’s hard for you,” iwa tags on, kissing your cheek and ruffling your hair following mattsun into the kitchen.
“but i’m always hard for you.” you yelp when hiro playfully slaps your ass, flipping him off as he trails after the other two with a loud hoot. tooru comes up behind you and rubs your sore cheek, spinning you around so that you were face to face.
“why’d you do this to me, y/n-chan?” you meet his frown with a confused look of your own. “now it’s gonna be even harder for me to go back to argentina.”
“oh, tooru,” you wrap your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes to bring him close. “you have the next few weeks to spend with us and our new baby.” as if he knew you were talking about him, ponyo pads over to sit by your feet, tail wagging. oikawa sighs melodramatically.
“a few weeks is nothing compared to the months i’ll be gone!” 
“oi, shittykawa, you better not be complaining after everything this morning,” hajime hollers from the kitchen.
“love you, too, iwa-chan!” tooru calls back instinctively then he looks back down at you, his eyes giving away how much leaving will hurt him and it nearly makes you tear up with him.
“tooru, baby, it sucks every time you leave us, but you’re following your dreams and doing what you love. and we want to support you all the way, even if it means doing so from across the world. but with my new work schedule, i’ll be able to call or text you pretty much whenever. and just think how much sweeter it’ll be the next time you do come home to us. so don’t be too sad, okay, my love? we’ll all be here waiting for you.” 
as the last words leave your lips, tooru has you pulled flush against him, arms wrapped tight around your body. his face was hidden, but you could feel the sobs in hot breaths against your shoulder. you guided him over to the sofa and let him cry, petting his hair and peppering kisses on his tear-streaked face until he tired himself out. 
issei, hajime, and takahiro come out of the kitchen with stacks of pancakes and all the fixings, setting them down on the coffee table in front of you once they see tooru snoozing in your lap. iwa picks ponyo up before he could get a bite of your breakfast while you gently shake your boyfriend awake. mattsun and makki set up ponyo’s crate and bedding, leaving him with a toy to keep him occupied while the five of you filled up your plates.
sitting in the living room of the apartment you shared with your four boyfriends on christmas day, stuffing your face with fruit and whipped cream topped pancakes that they made, in matching pajamas with your new rescue dog scampering about, you couldn’t ask for a better gift underneath the tree.
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taglist: @lovemeafterhrs​ @sachirou-senpai​ @honey-makki​ @kenmaki​
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fictionalfics · 4 years
Note
I had an idea. Could you do a crossover thingy where Aizawa has a daughter and she goes missing and he comes in the next day looking worse than normal and then the broadcast gets sent out and Aizawa sees his daughter in it and he gets either happy she’s alive or sad because she’s in a war?
This is s great idea! I’ve never written a parent fic before, so this is quite a challenge. Hope it came out okay!
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Title: Not This Time
Pairing: Dad!Aizawa x Daughter!Reader
!TW: VIOLENCE, KIDNAPPING, MENTIONS OF K*LLING, LIGHT ALCOHOL USE!
(Gifs not mine)
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“Aizawa-sensei’s been sleeping a lot more than usual, have you noticed Iida-kun?” Midoriya looks at his classmate expectantly as they make their way to the dining hall.
It was true, their rugged teacher had been sleeping in class a lot more lately. He had barely greeted his class before the yellow sleeping bag made its appearance. 
“I’m sure its nothing, Deku,” Ochako chimes in, “This is the first time in a while he’s taught a full class. Besides, you know who he has to deal with.“
Midoriya chuckles as his friend gestures to Kaminari, Bakugo and Kirishima - they didn’t mean to be, but they were one of the main sources of trouble in class 1-A.
“Yeah, you’re probably right.”
                                                         --------
Back kick. Block. Jump, kick, dodge. Bend the knees, feet to the floor. Breathe, start again. 
The thick material of your scarf is tight around your palms as you dodge attack after attack. You hold your hand out and erase the enemy’s quirk, before landing a swift chop to the neck. Another one down. You handcuff them as fast as you can before dodging a beam of light. It just catches you ear, the scent of burnt hair becoming more intense as you roll to the side.
A stakeout operation gone wrong. A local gang that turned out to be something much bigger. You were fighting a war that had nearly run its course, and this mission was meant to be one of the last. That was, until your stakeout partner revealed she was working for the other team, a double agent. 
That left you in this mess. You wished your dad was there with you right now, but he wasn’t. He’d taught you to cope on your own, you told yourself. You’d manage.
Smack!
                                                       -------
Three days. No text, no call, no you. Shouta had waited in the living room all night, sipping coffee to stay awake. It had been three days since you walked out the door with a great big smile on your face, saying goodbye as you left for work.
Ten years ago, the seemingly heartless man had taken you into his care after saving you from your burning orphanage. The hero saw himself in you, especially since your quirks were so similar. He trained you himself, teaching how to use the capture rope alongside your fists.
You had enrolled in Shiketsu High, in order to separate yourself from your dad, and started your work studies with a mid-ranked but successful pro in your second year. 
Shouta was extremely proud of you, and made sure you knew it every single day.
But it was unlike you to stay out for days at a time without contact. The first night wasn’t so bad - maybe she’s at the bar with friends, I’ll see her in the morning, he thought to himself.
You weren’t there in the morning. He put it down to you staying over a friend’s house - he was up pretty early after all, so you’d be home later.
Nope. Nothing. He continued to make excuses up for you all night, and all the way into the morning too, only grabbing an hour’s sleep before leaving for work.
When he came home to an empty house for the third day in a row, he started to panic for real. Texted you every hour, on the hour. Called a couple of times. Called your workplace, to no avail.
6:30 on the clock. Shouta chugged the rest of his coffee and slung his work bag over his shoulder as he noted it was day four now. Work was going to be a long one.
                                                        ------
Your ears rang as your former partner delivered another slap to your face.
“This would be over so much quicker if you told me where the boss is being held hostage, Y/N. You’re making this so hard for yourself!”
“Go to hell.”
Wack!
A scream held back in your throat, your teeth grind together as you fight through the pain. The edges of your vision began to go black, and you almost considered telling the gang everything.
                                                        ------
Shouta’s thumb was over the send button when he heard your name on the local news. 
Y/N Aizawa missing in action. Something about a fight against a gang, an ambush they said. No other details could be released for citizen safety.
The hero didn’t even realise he’d slid off the couch to kneel in front of the TV. Missing in action. He rested his forehead on the box, his hair sticking to the screen due to static.
Missing. You were missing.
His legs carried him to the agency you worked with. His voice demanded to see your boss, begged for the details of your whereabouts.
They wouldn’t tell him. “We cannot release details to the public, its for her safety as well as theirs,” your boss told him.
Shouta argued that he wasn’t the public, that he was a hero like you.
“There’s nothing more we can do, I’m afraid.”
                                                       -------
The ropes had begun to bite into your wrists as you hung from the ceiling. After deciding the initial interrogation was obsolete, the gang had taken you to a new building and strung you up. Your feet could almost touch the floor, but had given up trying to get free an hour ago. Possibly. You didn’t know how long you’d been there. You were sure you’d stayed awake, but even blinking felt like it took days in that dark room.
You strained your ears from information.
Move........found.....kill her.......risk? No......stupid.....
There wasn’t enough for you to piece together the crumbs of information. You were sure you were going to die at this point. So much potential, a great future ahead of you.
No, you can’t think like that! What would Dad do in this situation?
You couldn’t answer that one. Instead, you hummed a lullaby to yourself - your favourite that he used to sing to you if you’d had a nightmare. This entire situation was a bit of a nightmare, so you thought it was appropriate.
The door opened before you, the bright light bringing tears to your eyes.
                                                       -----
“She’s gotta be alright Shou, she’s tough! Besides, didn’t you go MIA all the time?” 
Hizashi did his best to comfort his friend, handing him a small glass of whiskey, which Shouta drank in one. He slammed the glass to the table with a dull thud.
“That’s different Yamada. I knew where I was, and I was never gone for long. I don’t know where she is, and it’s been nearly a week.”
The blond runs his palm down his face, not wanting to admit the he feared the worst too.
“She’s a hero Shou, bad things happen. You know the dangers and she does too, she’s not dumb.”
“Another whiskey please.”
Hizashi refilled Shouta’s glass, and the liquid disappeared as quickly as he’d poured it.
“She’ll be okay Shou.” 
                                                       ------
Your arms were freed of their painful restraints as your friends occupied the gang and, summoning as much strength as you could, dragged yourself to your feet, using your peer as a crutch. Your head turned to watch your team take on the four or five people that had taken you hostage, silently celebrating as you limped to the exit.
“Sorry we took so long Y/N, it took us a while to figure out where they’d taken ya!”
A tired chuckle escaped you as your co-worker apologised. “At least you’re here now.” Your response wasn’t completely a joke, but you couldn’t blame them. This gang was good at hiding.
“The whole operation is gonna be extended, thanks to the newbie. We had no idea she was a double agent- it’s gonna set us back to square one!”
Double agent. You scolded yourself for not catching on in time. “I’m sorry, I should have figured out sooner. Now the entire mission’s been compromised.”
Your peer sat you in the back of an ambulance that had come along with the police.
“Don’t beat yourself up silly! Even us pros didn’t know, there was no way a student could have guessed!”
The fight was over relatively quickly, thankfully. After the criminals were handed over to the police for interrogation, you were escorted back to the agency to be patched up, and report to the higher-ups.
                                                         ------
Eraser didn’t immediately jump up when the front door creaked open. He was a hundred miles away, trying to convince you to take a day off instead of going to work. You’d be home with him that way, smiling as you cooked your favourite meal in the kitchen. That smile... How badly he missed it.
He felt the couch sink next to him.
“Sorry I’m late Dad, I had one hell of a day at work!”
Dad? He snapped back to reality as the words sunk in. He looked to where the voice came from - his eyes traced it back to you. Covered in cuts and bruises, dark circles adorning your eyes, but you all the same.
“Y/N!” The dark haired man jumped up and lifted you into his arms. You giggled and squeezed him back, giddy with relief.
“Y/N Aizawa, you are grounded forever! What the hell happened to you?”
He set you down on the couch as you began to explain as much as you could, without giving away classified information.
“But I’m here now! I’ve got about a week to recover, because I wasn’t injured too badly, plus they did hold me in the recovery room for a day.”
“A week?” His shoulders slumped at the thought of you fighting. “They’re sending you back out there?”
“Yeah. The mission isn’t over yet, we have to dismantle them completely.”
Shouta ran a hand through his hair, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Promise me you won’t go missing again.”
“I can’t. You of all people should know that.”
“Humour me.”
Breaking eye contact, you sighed, before looking back at your father and smiling as wide as you could. “I won’t go missing this time Dad. I promise.”
“Good.” Shouta patted your head before standing up and making a beeline for the kitchen. “You’re still grounded forever.”
“But Dad!”
“No buts!”
“Even if I make you some coffee? Maybe cook some yakitori?”
“I may reconsider,” he chuckled. You always knew your way to his heart.
He loved his daughter so damn much.
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anystalker707 · 3 years
Text
We need each other
Pairing: Frank x Reader Word count: 913 Genre: Fluff / Comfort / Drabble Summary: (Y/n) is touch starved since Frank hasn't been spending a lot of time home lately. Requested by: @angie-migel
A/n: A drabble because I couldn't think much about how to extend this and I wasn't sure if you wanted a smut or something. (sorry <3 but you can always request again) *not proofread
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The small scratch on my neck probably appeared because of changing clothes in a rush, even if I don’t really remember when exactly it happened nor what caused it, but it’s still there, itching annoyingly and constantly reminding me of its presence. Giving in to scratching it isn't really a wise choice, however, it is easier said than done.
Most of the unquietness, I think, must be because Frank isn’t spending a lot of time home lately. He leaves a bit before lunch and usually comes home after dinner. It isn’t the first time this happens; that’s just how things get as soon as the guys start working on a new album and on the opposite of the making of Revenge, I can’t be present during Black Parade’s because of my job and the most of interaction I have with Frank during the day is the videos and audios he sends me along with messages.
Not a problem, of course, none of it all is – I can’t go on all tours and I can’t be glued to them the whole time. It’s something different, something I can’t quite identify so easily.
The faint sounds coming from the TV sound louder now that I come back to reality, looking around. Frank won’t be arriving home for at least for a couple of hours, I believe, so it’s enough time to go grab something for dinner before he’s here.
A sigh escapes my lips when I’m finally arriving back home and the thought of being met to complete silence when I walk in is a bit frustrating on all honesty – not just because Frank won’t be there yet, since it always happens when I’m arriving home with Frank, so what’s important is that everything will feel okay again after some time.
My thoughts are proven to be wrong, however, when I walk in and see the familiar pair of shoes by the door, unable to hold back a smile when hearing low singing coming from upstairs.
“(Y/n), is that you?”
“Yeah, it’s me!” I call back, leaving the food on the kitchen table.
“Right, I’ll be down in a sec!” Frank is probably dressing himself, judging by the shuffling and stumbling sounds – why doesn’t he sit down or support himself on the wall to pull his pants up? He’s soon coming down the stairs, with a small smile on his face. “Let’s eat already? ‘M hungry and it’s been a while since we last ate together.”
“Sure.” I smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek before we can start taking the food off the paper bag and set the table.
Listening to Frank rambling about his day is so lovely, I don’t know how to explain the way I feel whenever he does this, grinning and chuckling, sometimes cheering happily at a random fact and I feel like the luckiest person ever, my heart fluttering in my chest.
“And your day?” Frank asks after spending a minute in silence. “What did you do?”
“Not much.” I shake my head. “I finished some papers and then tried to watch something, though I’m sure I zoned out for most of the movie,” I chuckle.
“Why don’t you come with me tomorrow?” He smiles, eyes shining. “Like, you won’t be bothering because it’s not like it’s just the four of us in there and you won’t be so bored because I know how it can be. And it’s not like you need to continue working or whatever. You should get a job related to the band so you can come along.”
“You guys will get sick of me.”
“Like if,” he snorts. “It’s already been what? Five years? We won’t get sick of you anymore.” He scowls cutely.
I chuckle. “Just let me think about it first, okay?”
“But don’t forget about it.” Frank nudges my foot with his, winking at me.
After dinner, Frank is dragging me to the living room, having a blanket wrapped around him in the most ridiculous way, though he also manages to be so adorable – maybe I let my thoughts obvious because he looks at me through his lashes with that mischievous smile before sitting down beside me on the couch, quickly grabbing the remote to decide on something to watch.
My assumptions on the unquietness being originated by Frank’s absence prove themselves to be true with how easily I get immersed in the movie he chose, on the opposite of when I tried to do it by myself earlier.
“What’s that?” Frank asks, suddenly.
“Oh, no, I–” Before I’m able to answer properly, I can feel his hand meeting my neck, fingers tracing the scratch carefully and /fuck. A sound – a moan? – slips past my lips almost in an immediate reaction.
“Wha– /Oh...” A red tone dusts over Frank’s cheeks brightly when I turn to look at him and he seems to know as much as I do about what’s going on. “(Y/n)? I– Fuck–”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”
“You don’t need to apologise!” Frank cuts me off immediately, scooting closer to carefully wrap his arms around me. “I mean, um, it’s understandable. Like, I’ve been away a lot and all.” He slowly hugs me and I melt against him, almost at the same moment, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “See? Another reason why you need to get a job related to the band. You need to come with me.”
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imaginary-portal · 3 years
Text
Unspoken - Part Five
Bucky Barnes x Fem Reader
Summary: Y/N is a superhero with telekinetic and healing capabilities. The only catch, she doesn’t speak (italicized words are thoughts).
Content Warning: slightly sexual content
Word Count: ~1.9k
Part One Part Four Part Six
Masterlist
Enjoy!
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The team took advantage of the day off, and slept into the late morning. Y/N was the first to wake up, and she went out to get the guys breakfast. Y/N struggled with leaving Bucky alone in the bed. She just wanted to stay there with him forever. But at least now he’ll know how she felt the other day, waking up without him beside her. She came back to the room to find Sam and Bucky laying in their beds, watching television. “Food!” Sam said happily. Bucky smiled charmingly and gave Y/N a wave. He remembered how perfect last night was. The simple kiss on the cheek drove him wild.
“I didn’t know what you guys wanted…” Y/N trailed off while the two men came and rummaged through the food, taking what they liked. Y/N took the leftovers and ate it, quickly getting bored of the television. She grabbed her book and left the room. The door reopened behind her. “Y/N, where you off to?” Bucky asked. Y/N raised her book, signaling she would be reading. “Do you mind if I come with you? Maybe you can find me a book I’d enjoy.” Y/N accepted his invitation by motioning her head forward. Bucky followed Y/N like a puppy as they walked to the nearest book store. They were greeted by a cashier and Bucky gave them a small wave. Y/N walked to the classic novel section and chose the most boring book she could think of and handed it to Bucky. Bucky tried to be polite but as he flipped through the pages he realized the joke. “I get it because I’m technically a hundred years old. Funny stuff.” Y/N took the book hunt seriously now, heading for the fiction section. She grabbed a book that was about a war, betrayal, and friendship. Bucky seemed very interested when reading the back cover.
They purchased the book and found a park bench to sit at and read. Bucky was immediately sucked into his book, impressed by Y/N’s sense of judgement. He couldn’t help himself, however, from letting his eyes wander from the page to look at her. The way she focuses on her reading, he’s never seen anything like it before. She’s in her own little world. I want to be part of that. “Hey, Y/N.” Y/N broke from her trance and looked over at Bucky, who was so lost in her beauty that he forgot what he was going to say. “I um- I-“ Y/N smiled, realizing the situation. She closed her book and turned towards Bucky. She placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him butterflies, a feeling he thought he was too old to have. “Sometimes things are better left unspoken.” Y/N leaned in and kissed Bucky, their lips molding perfectly together. Bucky cupped Y/N’s face as he kissed her more passionately. The two rested their foreheads against each other and smiled like idiots. Y/N turned back to her book, wrapping her arm around Bucky’s and resting her head on his shoulder. Bucky smiled and returned to his reading.
——————
Y/N and Bucky walked home near sunset, holding hands the whole time. Sam questioned about where they were all day. Bucky simply said they went reading. Sam could tell by the look on Y/N’s face that unfortunately that was true. “Don’t you guys want to have fun?” Bucky chuckled. “Says the guy who stayed here and watched tv all day.” Sam laughed. “Touché. I guess I should do something today. I’ll go fetch us dinner.” Sam got up from his bed, grabbed his keys, gave Bucky a wink, and left.
Y/N stood awkwardly, not knowing what to do. However, she knew exactly what she wanted to do right now. I just want his lips on mine. Bucky thought the same thing. Unsure of who would crack first, Y/N sat down on the bed. Bucky looked at her sitting there, looking perfect. He couldn’t stop himself from biting his lip. Y/N took note of this and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Bucky also sat on the bed and remembered Y/N’s advice from earlier. Sometimes things are better left unspoken. But Bucky doesn’t want to leave it unspoken how amazing Y/N looks. He turned to Y/N and leaned in for a kiss. Y/N hovered her lips over his, teasing him a little before meeting his parted lips. The kisses quickly escalated. Y/N’s hands found their way into Bucky’s hair and she lightly tugged him. Bucky’s hands rested on her hips, squeezing them every so often. Bucky slipped his tongue gently in Y/N’s mouth, earning a moan from her. The moan gave Bucky a rush, pulling Y/N closer to him. “You’re so beautiful, doll.” He said in a raspy voice. Y/N was now sitting on Bucky’s lap, where she could feel his member harden. Y/N broke the kiss to leave a trail of kisses along his neck, earning a grunt from him. “We should stop.” Y/N said in between breaths. Bucky’s lips found their way back to Y/N’s. “Yeah, we should.” But neither of them could detach from the other. Suddenly, the two hear keys jiggling in the door. Y/N squeals as she jumps off of Bucky. The two sit a few feet apart, obviously out of breath. Y/N makes a last minute run to the bathroom to fix her hair. Bucky grabs a pillow and places it casually over his crotch. He runs a hand through his hair as Sam enters the room with a bag of food. “Thanks for helping me in by the way. The stupid lock is broken.” Bucky smiled softly, the only thoughts running through his mind were of Y/N. He didn’t know if he could keep it together when he sees her again.
Y/N comes out of the bathroom, looking normal and relaxed. She comes over quietly and grabs some food, avoiding eye contact with Bucky. Bucky watches her every move, finding perfection in all of it. Sam sat, clueless of how to understand this interaction. Y/N sits next to Bucky, resting her head on his shoulder as she ate. “Oh so you two are a thing now?” Sam asked. “Now you see that makes more sense why you’re being so weird today. I’m happy for you guys.” Bucky smiled and placed a kiss on top of Y/N’s head.
Before sleep that night, Bucky whispered in Y/N’s ear, “We’ll have to finish what we started sometime.” Bucky nibbled Y/N’s ear and placed a kiss on her neck before falling asleep.
——————
At the next mission, the team had to go indoors and split up to find the super soldiers. Y/N made it to them first, but she quickly felt her powers wipe away from her body. She entered a room with runes on the walls. Y/N looked around to see who might’ve done it, but she couldn’t imagine any of the super soldiers being capable of this. Y/N pulled her torturer’s necklace out of her pocket, securing it safely around her neck, the red light beginning to glow. While Y/N’s physical body remained standing where it was, her spirit temporarily transported to a different realm. “Are you joining the collective?” A voice whispered to her in the dark. “No. I just need to get out of here, away from the runes.” Y/N tried bargaining with the spirit. “Tsk tsk tsk. We only let you use the power if you join us. That is the price you pay.” Y/N looked around her, seeing only an abyss. She tried feeling her powers, they had returned. “And what if I don’t listen to you?” She said with a new confidence. “Then you’ll have even more people after you. Brutal people who want justice for the powers of the collective.” Y/N used her senses to feel around. There was something that she could grab onto with her telekinesis. She pulled the object closer to see a frail old woman in a robe. The woman had a look of shock on her face. “You’re not like the others. You looked behind the curtain. You must be one of the chosen ones. We permit you our power, you don’t have to join us.” The old woman bowed to Y/N, her weak legs kneeling on the ground. Y/N was incredibly confused but delighted to get this haggling over with.
Y/N was brought back to reality, where only a few milliseconds had passed. With her newfound powers from the necklace, she destroyed the runes by crumbling the walls around her. The super soldiers stood in shock. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.” One said to the other. “What will we tell him when he gets here?” Y/N started attacking the super soldiers that came after her. Sam and Bucky followed the noise and joined the fight. Bucky noticed that Y/N was wearing the necklace and her powers were different. He stayed close by her as he fought.
Y/N left in the middle of the fight, running out of the room. “What the hell?” Bucky yelled. Y/N climbed to the rooftop, where she felt a formidable presence. “Well, well, well. Look who it is.” A man Y/N remembers from her captivity unleashed sparkles from his hands, casting runes on the ground. Y/N destroyed them at the blink of an eye, and that is when the man recognized her necklace. “You’re with the collective?” Y/N shook her head and the man looked worried. “Call for backup.” He spoke to his servant. Y/N and the man began fighting, and she had him pinned down before the super soldiers had arrived. The man tried reaching for the necklace, but Y/N twisted his arm tighter. “What are you waiting for? Kill me.” The man pleaded. Y/N grew frustrated. “Wait, you can’t kill me? What a twist!” He laughed hysterically. “Y/N!” Sam and Bucky yelled running towards the scene. “We need to take care of this guy.” Y/N said. The message didn’t get through to either of the men. “Little miss powerful doesn’t have what it takes.” The man smirked. “You. With the blue eyes. Kill me. Do it. You’ve done it hundreds of times before.” Bucky looked at Y/N reluctantly, and she looked down. Bucky aimed his gun at the man and fired, knocking him dead. The super soldiers and servants scurried away like mice. “Y/N, who was that?” Sam asked gently. Y/N couldn’t hear anything over the whispers from the necklace. She still held on to the dead man’s arm tightly. “Y/N?” Sam and Bucky looked at each other in worry.
Bucky pulled Y/N’s arm off of the man. “Y/N?” Bucky cupped Y/N’s cheeks with his hands. The look in her eyes was desolate. “Y/N snap out of it. God damn it.” Bucky walked away in frustration and kicked his gun. “Y/N!” Sam yelled her name louder. Y/N heard his voice faintly. She started to control the voices much like lowering the volume on a remote. “I have to go.” Was all she said before she jumped from one rooftop to another. Bucky started to chase after her, but Sam blocked him. “Don’t do it Buck. You won’t make it.” Bucky ignored him. “Bull shit. I did that all the time when I was the Winter Soldier.” Sam fought harder to keep him back. “You’re not the Winter Soldier anymore. I couldn’t even chase her right now if I flew after her. I’m sorry Bucky. We have to let her go.” Tears formed in Bucky’s eyes. Sam brought him into an embrace. “I don’t understand what happened to her.” Sam held back tears. “Don’t worry. We’ll find out. I’ll be sure of it.”
——————
Tags: @learisa @harrietbaudelaire
Copyright © 2021 imaginary-portal. All rights reserved
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onlydylanobrien · 3 years
Text
Dylan O'Brien - NME Magazine Interview
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Dylan O’Brien: “I was in this transitional phase – close to a quarter-life crisis”
From YA heartthrob to legitimate leading man – how the 'Maze Runner' star hit his stride after a whirlwind decade
Definitely!” hoots Dylan O’Brien when NME asks if he still has to audition. “I’m not Tom fucking Hanks, bro.” He’s clearly amused by our question, but forgive us for thinking the 29-year-old actor gets cast on reputation alone. A decade into his career, and he’s making an impressive transition from teen TV star and YA franchise hero to charismatic leading man.
New York-born O’Brien cut his teeth on MTV’s hit Teen Wolf series, before landing the lead in the Maze Runner film trilogy based on James Dashner’s hugely popular novels. Leading a band of bright young things that included ex-Skins tearaway Kaya Scodelario, Game Of Thrones’ Thomas Brodie-Sangster and Will Poulter, he honed his craft while racking up nearly a billion dollars at the box office. “My career is a constant acting class,” says O’Brien. “To be able to do the Maze Runner movies simultaneously with Teen Wolf was amazing in terms of getting in reps and working my [acting] muscle.”
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Now for the sometimes tricky bit. Many actors struggle with the post-breakout period, but O’Brien is making it look easy so far. This year’s Netflix hit Love and Monsters proved he can carry an old-school family adventure, and new film Flashback (out next week) reveals an appetite for weirder, more cerebral work. He stars as Fred Fitzell, a young man reluctant to buckle down to life as a nine-to-fiver with a boring corporate job and a long-term girlfriend (Mindhunter‘s Hannah Gross). When he runs into a freaky-looking acquaintance from his teenage years, Fred becomes obsessed with finding an old high-school friend he used to drop a mind-bending experimental drug called Mercury with. It’s difficult to say any more without entering spoiler territory, but Flashback is a wild ride underpinned by the idea that we can exist in several realities at once. Even if you follow every plot twist, you might not fully understand the end. “Oh, it’s definitely a headfuck,” O’Brien agrees. “There’s not totally an answer to figure out. There’s a lot of different things that people can take from it.”
Speaking over Zoom from his LA home, O’Brien is bright, thoughtful and really good fun to talk to, especially when he relaxes into the interview, but he clearly knows where his line between public and private lies. When he first read the Flashback script, written by the film’s director Christopher MacBride, his “mind was blown” by just how much he related to Fred. “I felt like I was in this transitional phase of my life that was, you know, sort of close to a quarter-life crisis type thing,” he says. “For whatever reason, it was like me and this script were meant to be. I remember reading it and thinking: ‘I am this guy right now.'”
“There were a lot of things in my personal life that were neglected for a while”
When we ask why O’Brien felt as though he had reached a “transitional phase”, he gives an answer that’s vague but not exactly evasive. For understandable reasons, he doesn’t mention the incredibly traumatic motorcycle accident he sustained while shooting the final Maze Runner film in March 2016. O’Brien suffered severe trauma to the brain and said in 2017 that he underwent extensive facial reconstructive surgery after the accident “broke most of the right side of my face”. Tellingly, he’s never really revealed what happened on set or how it affected him.
Today, O’Brien dances around the details of the accident and other issues he was dealing with at the time, but doesn’t shy away from discussing his inner conflict. “You know, it was a lot of personal things combined with at-a-point-in-my-career things,” he says after a brief pause. He says he’d have been going through some of this stuff anyway, simply because of his age, but it sounds as though success intensified it all. “It was like this whole fucking storm of shit,” he continues. “I was simultaneously so fulfilled and happy about these, like, otherworldly and surreal things that I had experienced in terms of where my career had brought me. I had all this confidence and fulfilment and beautiful people [in my life] – such amazing things to experience at a young age. But at the same time, there were a lot of things in my personal life that were unchecked and sort of neglected for a while.”
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O’Brien says that in time, he realised he had to “stop for a second” and “re-explore how I wanted my life to look going forward”. In fairness, you can see why he needed a breather: his career took off while he was still a teenager. After his family moved from New Jersey to Los Angeles County when he was 12, O’Brien contemplated a career as a sports broadcaster – his Twitter bio still bills him as a “no longer suffering Mets fan” – then began posting YouTube videos as moviekidd826. A funny, slickly edited skit titled ‘How to Prepare for the SAT in 45 seconds’, shared when he was just 17, shows he was a born performer and storyteller. YouTube success led to him getting a manager, but his breakthrough role in Teen Wolf still came out of the blue. At the time, he was treading water at a local community college and taking auditions on the side.
Still, he has since taken a rather fatalistic view of this career-making moment. “It’s totally weird because, when I think about it now, I don’t see how it could have happened any other way. I can’t picture myself doing anything else now,” he told Collider in 2011. “It was really sudden and a little random, and not provoked by anything. It was just out of nowhere. It wasn’t my intentional doing.” Today, O’Brien summarises his skyscraper career trajectory succinctly. “I guess I just graduated high school and started acting,” he says. “And then I felt like I was just flying by the seat of my pants and never got a chance to stop.” Thankfully, straight-out-the-blocks Hollywood success hasn’t taken away his sense of perspective. When I say how easy social media makes it to compare yourself unfavourably to others, O’Brien jumps in: “Yeah, that’s very true. I was watching the Billie Eilish doc the other day, and I was like, I’ve done nothing. I’m not an artist at all!”
“No one thought ‘Love and Monsters’ was going to be good!”
O’Brien is also self-deprecating when he talks about being cast in Flashback, suggesting it happened because he had such an intense connection with Fred. “I was honestly like, ‘Who is watching me right now?’ That is the best way I can describe how I was feeling when I came across this script,” he says. “Chris [MacBride, director] and I had this conversation that went so well in terms of [my] understanding this script that I think he’d sent around a lot and [that] very commonly wasn’t understood. I think Chris has even said that the night before shooting, he suddenly had this thought, like, ‘Wait, do I even think he’s a good actor?'”
Though O’Brien has firmly ring-fenced elements of his private life, he’s actually pretty frank about his acting vehicles. He readily admits he was expecting a snobbish response to Love and Monsters, a CGI-heavy hybrid of post-apocalyptic action and romcom that dropped on Netflix in April and topped the streamer’s daily most-watched list. “It means so much that Love and Monsters has gotten the response that it’s gotten,” O’Brien says. “No one thought this movie was going to be good.” His blunt honesty makes me laugh out loud. “No one did though!” he says in response. “And so, fuck that. You know, most of the people who say something to me about the movie, they’re like: ‘I watched Love and Monsters, and it was… good?’ And honestly, that just cracks me up.” For obvious reasons, we hastily decide not to share our response to the film – namely, that it was a whole lot better than expected.
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In Love and Monsters, O’Brien plays Joel, a survivor of a so-called “monsterpocalypse” that has bumped humans to the bottom of the food chain. Though he’s known in his colony as a bit of a coward, Joel sets off on a treacherous 80-mile journey to find his high school sweetheart Aimee (Iron Fist‘s Jessica Henwick), which means evading the hungry clutches of various supersize grizzlies including a giant monster-frog hiding in a suburban pond. It’s a simple but pretty out-there premise that wouldn’t work if O’Brien’s performance was even slightly condescending. Instead, his unselfconscious sincerity really sells a film that has as much in common with the family-oriented Robin Williams movie Night at the Museum as darker fare like The Walking Dead.
His obvious affection for the project really comes across during our interview today. “When I read the script, I just thought it was so sweet and funny and smart and unique, but at the same time reminiscent of all these movies that don’t really get made any more,” he says. That’s a fair point: Love and Monsters is neither a fail-safe superhero movie nor a slice of classy Oscar bait. “And when they were talking about how to market this movie, it was so funny hearing all these conversations like, ‘How do we actually get people to watch it?'” he adds. “But that’s a big part of the reason I wanted to do this movie: because it felt like something I missed seeing.”
“I’m lucky to be surrounded by people who want to make something out of love”
So in a way, Love and Monsters was a risk for an actor seeking to establish himself outside of a bankable movie franchise and a hit TV show. O’Brien has only made four films since his final Maze Runner outing in 2018, and insists he hasn’t been tactical with his choices. “I don’t have anyone saying, ‘We need to get you in an Oscar vehicle’, or any of that kind of shit,” he says. “I’m really lucky to be surrounded by people who think like me: that you should do what you’re drawn to, and make something out of love.”
He’s recently finished shooting a mysterious crime thriller called The Outfit in London with Mark Rylance. Directed and co-written by Graham Moore, who won an Oscar for his screenplay to Alan Turing biopic The Imitation Game, O’Brien calls it “quite possibly one of the most special pieces of writing I’ve ever experienced”. He first read the script on a plane and says he “actually stood up and clapped” when he got to the end. Considering O’Brien probably wasn’t flying Ryanair, this reaction presumably attracted a few baffled glances.
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Anyway, it must be pretty intimidating walking onto set with Rylance, a multi-award-winning actor revered by his peers – Al Pacino once said he “speaks Shakespeare as if it was written for him the night before” – but it sounds as though O’Brien took it all in stride. He says he’s confident in his abilities, but admits to having a slight wobble whenever he begins a new project. “I’m always sort of re-questioning everything – like, ‘Can I even act?'” he says. “But I think there’s something very natural about that. I think even Rylance could relate to that feeling. Acting is like starting a new year at school every single time.”
At this point in his career, O’Brien has made peace with the fact that some people will have preconceptions about him based on what he’s known for: Maze Runner and Teen Wolf. “People will put you in a box no matter what,” he says. “There was definitely a time when that would get to me, especially when it felt like somebody had a perspective on me that in my soul, I just felt wasn’t accurate.” Still, there’s no doubt he wants to show us what’s really in his soul with more films like Flashback. “If anything,” he adds bullishly, “it just makes me think: ‘Right, I’m really gonna show them now’.”
‘Flashback’ is out on digital platforms from June 4
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leahseclipse · 4 years
Text
Dear diary
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: When Spencer happens to find a diary in the library, he becomes more curious about the owner of it, wanting to find them, and possibly know them better than with a few words.
Warnings: None that I can think of; just two idiots (soon to be) in love, sorry, some moments are so cheesy (but it's so cute I couldn’t not do it)
Category: Fluff
Word count: 8.4k 
A/N: Here’s the fic I’ve been working on for like...one month?? I’ve taken part in the fic swap organized by @imagining-in-the-margins​ , and wrote that fic for @sunlight-moonrise​ :)!!! It really was awesome to take part in it and I can’t wait to do others ones!! Go check out their fics as well, they’re really awesome :)
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      I usually like to stay in places like the libraries I go to, the ambience is my favorite part about it, it’s pretty calm (nice deduction genius, you’re in a library, so of course it’s going to be calm), the people that I see there are quite friendly, I’ve had the occasion of speaking with some of them, and mostly, it allows me to discover new stuff instead of reading the same books for a whole week.
When I do that, I’m either really bored, or the book just happens to be one I like to read without being bored after a few pages, or even after reading it for the 100th time.
But, I guess that going to the library was a good choice, the other option that I considered before deciding to go outside was to stay all day in my secluded apartment, probably on the couch or wherever I sit, either reading or watching tv. 
It’s not that I’m lazy, I just like to do simple things like these, I’m not usually into group activities, that actually involves social stuff.
Most of the time, Penelope forces me to participate because I never decide to join on my own.
Right now, I think I just prefer to stay alone, it’s been a few hours since I came in, so I’m not really in the mood to be other people, maybe later I guess.
Although, I still found it weird not to have any message or call, it still was strangely calm. It rarely occurred.
I know, in this case, I should relax, as there is, nothing, absolutely, nothing, going on, but I can’t help but think that my phone is gonna start to vibrate at any second when I had just managed to find peace, -that I’m not close to finding- if I keep thinking of all of it happening.
I just sighed as I opened the book I had been holding for the past hour; I haven’t even reached the half of it because of all of the thinking I’ve done since I stepped in the library.
I had nothing to do at this moment, so might as well use the time I have to go to a place I appreciate.
I’ve always liked going to these, for as long as I remember. They’ve always been a place where I felt safe, relaxed, all of my problems would fade away when I’d be in, I always saw it as a shelter against the rough reality that faced me at that time when I was at high school.
I couldn’t really say something without being seen as an annoying brat; I still wonder if it was because they couldn’t accept the fact that a 12 years old was smarter than them, that I was annoying by always managing to find the answer, or because they still couldn’t stand me.
So, I guess that's why I found a real shelter in books.
I’d always read for hours and hours without interruption, at the end of one book, I already wanted to read four more.
They all were nothing but the most interesting words that I constantly appreciated other than the insults of the other students.
I used to be able to forget what was on my mind when I was reading. I still am, but when you have a job that can interrupt your perfect calm moment, things tend to get complicated when you happen to lose your concentration over that.
I also had let myself get distracted by what happened to be around; for example, the rain pouring outside, the drops that would fall down the glass, so, yeah, I...did choose to look at that instead of focusing over a book that was far more interesting.
I also closed my book again for what felt like the millionth time; perhaps it had something to do with my current struggle to focus, I didn’t really know.
It was turning out to be one of those days; my mind would fill with a ton of things, constantly repeating themselves in my head, till I'd feel like it’d explode. 
I may be just making up stuff, and I'm just distracted this time, nothing bad.
The small space I was in had some shelves a bit dispersed throughout the room, chairs, and two small tables in the middle. But when I had expected to only see the pamphlets that have always been there, I happened to be confused about the item laying on the pile. 
At a glance, it looked like a small notepad of sorts.
I haven't even noticed someone here previously, I didn't even know if someone had come at all.
I tend not to pay attention to my surroundings when I read, or even focus on anything, I just act as if nothing and as if no one was around, it's just what's in front of me and my thoughts. 
I have to admit that some exceptions can occur sometimes, such as today, when I chose to focus on a few drops of water, instead of the book that I barely touched since I arrived.
I can even dive in a book as someone is talking and just block what they say and only focus on the words I'm reading, it’s happened...quite a few times now.
It probably is why I haven’t noticed that the person that was previously here had left, nor see the book on the table.
I couldn’t even tell when, because again, I didn’t notice their presence at all.
Perhaps I could find something about the owner of the item in there…? I can't just leave it there, I'll end up regretting it at home and it won't leave my mind.
I had slightly gotten up from my seat so my arm could reach the rectangular-shaped item and sat back when I acquired it.
I did take a look at it, turned it around to search for whatever could be written on the cover, but nothing could be seen, despite that, I searched for a good minute before realizing that I'd probably have to open it to search for a possible name in it to identify the owner.
As I lifted the small string keeping the red notepad open, I found myself with a white page, with a name written on it. 
“y/n y/l/n”
I couldn’t really find them with only their name, they could be living in this city, and if they weren’t from here, the whole state.
Would it be right to just give it to one of the employees so that they could pick it up later? 
I didn’t really know, the employee could forget it, put it in a corner, and it possibly could end up getting lost, which, I wouldn’t really appreciate, even if I don't know the person at all, so it wouldn’t really change my life. 
But still, I’d still feel guilty about that, I wouldn’t want to be responsible for losing their item if it does end up getting lost.
If I went any further, I would, in a way, invade their privacy. Because I doubt they'd want -or appreciate- a stranger going through it if what’s written is personal.
I already went through the ‘give it to the staff’ solution, but, it didn’t seem safe to me, it could end up quite bad as the item can end up getting lost, so, that is definitely something to cross off the list. Even if it could end up not getting lost, I didn’t prefer to take the risk.
I couldn’t ask them about the person, as I didn’t even know them, and hadn’t even seen them around the library.
If I went to the staff standing at the enter like “I’m looking for someone that left a diary, I don’t know anything about them, I just know their name, and they went here.”, it’s literally to no use. A ton of people come in and out, and they just can’t guess. But, I did have their name, I could go up to them and ask…?
But again, what if they forget to give it to the owner when they come in? Or what if they forget they left it there, and don’t know it’s the place they left their diary there? But, was keeping it the best solution after all?
With all of the potential scenarios that could possibly happen, but not happen at the same time, to me, keeping it could possibly be the best solution, I guess.
I don’t really know if the following actions were involuntary, or just curiosity, but I just began slightly wandering through the pages, that even if that wasn’t one of my intentions at all.
I really am a complete stranger, I shouldn’t be doing that at all.
Should I be doing that right now? This isn’t appropriate at all, they wouldn’t appreciate someone going through this, at all. 
But, as I went through the pages, I began to find myself more interested about the person, some books that I had read myself had been mentioned, they seemed quite attentive, I could also tell that from the way they were writing, their writing was delicate, way more different from my chicken scratch writing that basically no one could read without having to request my presence to translate the nonsense on the paper.
I shouldn’t be going through this though, I should just close what I identified as a diary after a few pages right now. I don’t know them at all, and they don’t know me either, that isn’t something I would like someone else to do to me, so why was I still reading it?
“Even if I weren’t very happy about the behavior of my shitty boss, y/n would actually like to keep her job, so she keeps her mouth shut and smiles at what he has to say, even if she doesn’t care at all.”
It did...somehow looked like what I would say about Hotch sometimes, because even if we’re good friends, he happens to still be my superior, so we did have some arguments, eventually.
“I...also kind of hate what went on recently, I just got rejected by the guy I had a crush on-”
I closed the diary as soon as I began reading the beginning of the sentence.
Now, I should definitely not be reading that. That’s getting a bit personal over there, and I doubt she’d like that, again.
I had already gone way too far by deciding to go further than the page with her name on it, and now I reached something, that is...really personal and that I shouldn’t have read at all.
Don’t open that again Spencer, you shouldn’t have even begun reading, and now, you shouldn’t be opening it again, if you possibly want to attempt at getting a friendship, and know more about that person. 
I don’t know what happened but I just suddenly had the urge to do what I wanted to do when I had taken it: Give it to the staff and hope she manages to get it back.
A part of me did want to respect her privacy, even if it kind of was ruined now, and return it so that I wouldn’t open it again, but another part really wanted to know more about her, and possibly hope to be able to return it myself, because I do want to talk to them after what I had read, I didn’t know a lot of people that knew the books I have read, and to who I could talk to about if I do end up meeting them.
After a while of thinking, I figured I could still ask the staff, her name is in it, and if she happens to come here often, perhaps that could help, I didn’t really know.
I headed to the office near me, as a young man turned his head towards me when I had brought his attention.
“Oh, Spencer. It’s nice to see you there, it’s been a while, busy with work, as always?”
“Yeah, as always. Oh, by the way, I was wondering if you could help me with something; I found this...diary in the table over there, and the only name in it is “y/n y/l/n”, do you happen to know someone with that name, by chance?”
“y/n y/l/n? Uh, I may know someone with that name? Wait.” He said as he stepped away to talk to another employee. “Julia, do you happen to know someone named...y/n y/l/n? Spencer found a diary of hers.”
“y/n? Yeah, she comes in from time to time to grab science books.” She answered as she walked in our direction. “I wished I could go and give it to her, but, I’m really busy right now. You could leave it there though."
“I'd prefer for her to get it in person. So, I could bring it to her, but I don’t really know where she is. Do you...happen to know?” I asked, hoping to get a helpful answer.
“I think she works at uh…that craft shop at the end of the street, I saw her sometimes. You could see if she’s there, and if she’s not, you can leave it to the blond and tall guy, he’s the owner, so he’ll give it to her when she's back.” Julia said.
“Okay, uh...thanks for the help. See you later.” I gave them a small wave, as I headed to the exit, walking down the street on my way to the place that had been mentioned in the conversation. 
I didn’t come here often as I don’t necessarily build stuff, but I walked in front of it often, so I just knew it was there, nothing much.
The front of the store was colored with black paint along with small yellow lights, it stood out a bit in the street, compared to the shops around. It really made a good first impression for someone that had never come, the way the place was displayed seemed quite welcoming.
When I had made my way into the shop, everyone seemed busy with their tasks, and the shop contained about...five, six people, I’d say. 
I took a minute observing the surroundings, I didn’t really have anything to notice or say, except that the shop was nice, it was nicely organized, small signs to help the customers find what they needed were displayed, the shelves were in order, the products seemed to be good brands, and it really was various.
It wasn’t until a soft voice had brought my attention; as I turned towards the source of the voice.
“Hi, do you...need help, with something?” The girl asked with a small smile on her face.
“Oh um...I’m looking for...someone named...y/n y/l/n? I found something that belongs to her and the employees at the library where I found it said I could find her here, and that if she wasn’t there, I could give it to a blond and tall guy, who’s apparently the owner.” I explained as I held out the object firmly in my hand.
“Yeah, she’s in the back, give me a minute, I’ll get her.” She said as she left to the back of the shop, leaving me to awkwardly stand there while I waited for them to return.
It didn’t take as much time as I thought it would, in no time, she was back with a girl walking behind her.
“As said, I brought her there. I’ll leave you two, I gotta get back to the storage.” She gave a pat on the shoulder of her colleague, as she disappeared in the corner.
“I was told that you had...found something that may belong to me?” The girl, supposedly y/n, said.
“Y-yeah, I found...that, at the library.” I stuttered as I handed her the diary. She hadn’t fully realized what I handed her at first, but her face quickly showed a surprised and relieved expression on it.
“Oh, you found it there? I, I swore that I took it with me when I left for work, I was in a hurry, so I guess I forgot it, thanks."
“Probably, it was on one of the tables, I didn’t want it to end up lost, or whatever else could happen, so, I took it, hoping I might find who it might belong to. I was lucky they knew you at the library. And lucky that your name was in it. I...opened it to find out who it could belong to since the cover didn’t have a name on it. I...really felt kinda bad for opening it though.”
“Oh, just- leave it, it’s not really a big deal, you didn’t do a crime or anything. You kinda had to open it in the first place so you could know who it belonged to. I wouldn’t have been delighted by that at first, but I’m glad you found it.”
“I thought you’d react differently, I wouldn’t have liked the idea of someone going through my stuff either. I just don't feel comfortable sharing my stuff with other people.”
“You did nothing wrong there, you just wanted me to help me, that’s all. You don’t have to worry about making me angry or anything. But, don’t worry, I understand, I don’t even let my own mother see anything, I like her a lot, but I still like to keep stuff for myself, you know.”
“Yeah, I’m glad. At least everything is in order. I should uh...probably let you work, I don’t want you to be in trouble or anything because I kept you busy about something not work-related at all.”
“No, it’s ok. The boss isn’t around, and we don’t have many customers, it’s a calm day.” She said as she stepped closer. “Don’t tell anyone, but I actually prefer when it’s like that, I don’t work a lot and it’s better when there’s not a lot of people, I hate social interactions.”
“I get you, I also prefer that; but, unfortunately, talking to people is part of my job, and I don't think my boss would appreciate me taking a vow of silence."
“Same there, wish I could. Especially….when I get annoying customers.” She admitted, in a quiet voice. “So, you see.”
“I see, yeah.” I agreed as I felt a buzzing in my pocket.
Come on, now?
“Shit...I have to go, um...have a nice day. I hope you don’t get in trouble because of the long chat we had.”
“It’s ok, don’t worry- wait!” She interrupted before I could exit. “As you know my name, could I...know yours?”
“Oh, It’s uh...Spencer Reid." 
“Well then, uh...bye, Spencer.” She said, as I waved awkwardly when I stepped out.
Well, that sure was...an experience.
It wasn't the best I ever had, as I was basically only rambling, but, it wasn't as bad as I expected it to be on the way.
She kind of was like me, social interactions weren't her thing, so we kind of understood each other, I'd say.
So, if I happened to be awkward, I'm sure she understood why.
Well, to me, it basically was because of that, and...a bit because of her.
I really wanted to know more about her, the bit that I read about her in the diary (before the sentence that I certainly shouldn't have read), she just seemed...like an really great person. The kind of person that’d make you want to know more about her, really.
But, we were nothing more than strangers; knowing someone's name and a few details about them doesn't mean that all of a sudden, you know them. 
I just found her diary, nothing more. 
So...why do all of a sudden, I want to know more about her? 
I happened to find objects for other people, but I never wanted to pursue the exchange that I had with them. 
Maybe I should just let it slide away. I don't even know if any of that will end up fine.
I don't even know if she'll find the fact that I want to know more about her creepy or nice. 
It's not everyday that a guy who found something for you suddenly wants to know more.
Maybe it's just me, maybe it's just fine, and I'm just persuading myself that it's weird while it's not. 
I just...guess we'll see.
I don’t think she’ll react badly.
*
And...as I predicted, I haven't stopped thinking of her once in a while.
Every time I didn't think of something; she'd appear.
Why did a complete stranger occupy my mind more than others I've met before? I did remember the people I've met, but I never thought of them as much as her. 
Did a diary and a few sentences really take that much for her to stay stuck in my thoughts?
I'm sure she forgot about me since, I just gave her diary back, she exchanged a few sentences with me, and that was it. 
I couldn’t even let it slide away as I previously told.
I don’t even know if I could see her again one day.
I do want to, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t even know if she’s from around, and if she doesn’t happen to be, I don’t want to be seen as a creep if I happen to walk around.
Yeah, that was a bit weird to say, but I’m just saying what she or anyone else would possibly think of that, if I ever were to do it.
Maybe she’ll come to the library again? 
If she comes again, I hope it’ll be when we both happen to be free, because if that happens when I’m on a case, or when she’s at work, it’s gonna be...really complicated. 
I just don’t really want to directly come to the store, what if she’s not here? What if she finds me weird? I just...prefer to meet her again outside of work, in a more appropriate place, where I’ll probably feel less pressured about a conversation.
Again, yeah, it’s weird, I admit it, but, I just wouldn’t really want to directly go where she works, the majority of the scenarios that I made up, and that are filled with the fears I have about them, they’re not the greatest ones to be honest. They’re very likely not about to happen considering how ridiculous they are, but I just prefer to do it another way that won’t include a ton of ridiculous scenarios.
I seriously have no idea of why I’m acting like this, there is literally, absolutely, not anything. She’s literally the sweetest person I’ve met, she acknowledged my awkwardness, the fact that I didn’t like social interactions a lot (because most of the time, they end up in me rambling, and the person I’m talking to, is not understanding a single word of what I say the whole time, and is pretending to, to not offend me), she really was nice, and there was apparently no reason for her to find me weird in any way.
I think that I really was making up things, and being a bit dramatic.
I don’t think it’ll be that bad.
I just have to see things on the positive side, next time I’ll see her, it’ll be okay, I’ll try to not look nervous as hell, or even make the conversation weird, and everything will be absolutely fine.
I just have to stop worrying about things that aren’t things to worry about at all and go with it.
Because honestly, what could possibly go wrong?
I'm just trying to convince myself something wrong will definitely happen, when it simply won't.
We'll have a completely normal talk, without any inconvenience, and maybe see each other again, that's it.
Next time I'll see her will be a good day, I have to focus on that and absolutely not on the list (that's….oddly large) of what could possibly go wrong.
But eventually, the next few days went…better than I expected them to be, surprisingly. 
I did almost stop thinking about all of the stuff that would make our future interaction bad, and really weird, refraining me from ever talking again considering how embarrassed I would be if I'd turned out this way so…yeah, keep the positive thoughts coming Spencer. 
The week had gone...okay-ish, I’d say. 
In a way, we were busy, but at the same time, not really, it was pretty calm compared to many of these chaotic days we all hope won’t appear soon.
I had indeed tried to stop stressing about what had been on my mind for a while, but I hadn’t quite stopped thinking about her. It’s weird that she stayed on my mind more than I thought she would.
I would have never forgotten her, but thinking about her, basically most of the time, I wouldn’t have gone that far. 
Even if the week had been calm, I haven’t found the motivation or time to get myself to the library as I was supposed to. I just hoped she would be there when I would finally decide myself to go, that way I’d perhaps have a chance to get to talk to her, I just hope it will go well, I want to.
Wanting to know a stranger I read a few words about isn’t part of my habits, but I just want to try to get to know her. I don’t want to regret it later and blame myself because I haven’t been able to gather even a bit of courage to approach her.
I’m sure she’ll be okay with it, she seemed pretty nice when we had exchanged a few words, it didn’t seem like she wanted to leave, found me weird, she seemed pretty calm and open to me. 
So, I think the next time I’ll see her will be fine.
Next time will be better, I just have to gather some courage, and it’ll be totally fine.
There won’t be any problems.
*
Don’t ask how, but I somehow found myself going to the library on a free day instead of staying in my apartment all day to either read the entirety of my shelf or watch whatever comes to mind, so, basically, sit on the same spot all day and only getting up when I need to do something.
It’s pretty basic, Morgan often teases me a bit about it, saying that I could try to meet people, find love, go outside and all of these things...that only interests himself and no one else.
It’s not that I’m against all of that, it’s just that...I’m not at ease with it in general.
That’s not really part of my list of favorite things, and if I had to explain more in depth, I prefer spending a whole afternoon watching Doctor Who or even doing paperwork if I’m really bored, rather than go outside and regret it five minutes later because if I’m with other people, I can’t go and have to stand there awkwardly till everyone decides to go back home.
I don’t completely hate talking and being with other people, because I’m literally surrounded by them at work and whenever I usually go to like the library, the coffee shop and etc, but you get it, I have a preference for staying alone sometimes, it depends I’d say.
Because sometimes, it happens that I’m in the mood to be with other people without having the need to go five minutes after we gathered around.
I think it happens with most people, I hope that I’m not the only one that constantly switches their socialization mode on and off every two minutes because they can’t decide whether they want to ignore people and stay in their bubble, or talk with people and interact more than they usually would.
Today, I think that I was between the two, I did appreciate being alone in my thoughts without having to engage a conversation I’m not interested in, or simply engage a conversation in which I’ll force myself to talk to not upset the other person, but, I did wanted to see a person, I did get here in hopes to see someone, her.
I think that, as I just realized, and admitted to myself, I did come here in hopes to bump into her, and eventually talk. 
It would be nice to see her, at least I would have a reason to be here because...I truly have no idea why I came, I tried to make up an excuse like: "I need to get that book.", but it turns out that I already read it, and as long as I can remember, I don’t think I’ve enjoyed it as much as any other I’ve read more than my brain can recall.
But, I don’t really know what I was supposed to do right now, I didn’t even come here to read, so what was I supposed to do? Take a seat somewhere, and if she comes, pretend to read, and when she approaches; ‘oh I didn’t see you there!’.
I just wouldn't see myself telling that when I’d be saying the exact opposite, if she does come, I’m only gonna see her, and only her. 
I can’t pretend that I didn’t see her at all, it wouldn’t be true at all, and would kind of be rude, because I’d, in a way, pretend to ignore her, when I could just gather some courage to talk to her.
I have no idea when did I get so nervous about talking to someone, I basically do that all the time with my work, so, why am I acting like that? 
I just have to approach her when I’ll see her, and ask basics things for when you start a conversation, and just, talk about other subjects to make the conversation going. 
And now...I just realized it sound like I’m making a plan or something, I’m planning off what I want to do, and it’s kind of weird. 
You can’t really plan how a discussion goes, unless a subject to make it start is there, for example, in a meeting, in a class, or even for me, at work when I’m on case, but now, with y/n, the conversation will probably go from start, it’ll just be going with the flow, with what we both think, it won’t have a head start; but at the same time, I have no idea what I’m gonna talk about, and, as I said, I can’t plan what I’m gonna talk about either.
Since when did I question myself about that?
I usually don’t do it, I don’t even question myself and just start the conversation without even thinking of what I’m going to talk about, there isn’t really supposed to be a problem in general, but, I don’t really know, we barely know each other and don’t really know how to act, talk, so the other won’t feel embarrassed, I wouldn’t want to talk about stuff she thinks weird or hates, that would kind of make a bad impression, especially if I want to form a friendship with her. 
I really have to stop, I’ve been rambling in my head for god knows how long, and it seriously won’t make things with her better, only worse.
We started off pretty fine, so, I prefer to keep it that way, we’ll know what to talk about, and make the conversation good, so that we’ll just pursue it without even planning stuff. 
I do it everyday, it’s totally not complicated, and last time we talked, I didn’t even stress about that, I just thought about knowing her more, so I could ask about her interests, how was her day, and eventually, some books, it could be a good way to start.
I’m just going to wander around it, and just, hope she’ll come by, I guess. 
I didn’t even think that she could be there, because when someone comes in, you don’t particularly look right away at the enter, unless you’re actually expecting someone you know to come in, but, I didn’t even know if she even hoped or know I’d come here, I have just came here, and that’s it, it didn’t necessarily mean that I was from around.
I did try to pay attention to my surroundings this time, it wasn’t an habit of mine when I happened to be in my thoughts, but I didn’t really want to bump into someone, it’s a bit of an awkward situation, only if it’s just a small ‘sorry’ before each goes in separate ways. 
It also was in case she happened to be here as I previously told myself when I had made my way in. 
I think that it kind of was a way to cheer myself up and get over the fact that she might not come as I hoped for the past days. 
All I could possibly do was to remain in high spirits, and just accept what will happen, it’s really not like I can force the universe to bring her here, or text her, we didn’t even knew each other enough to be able to maintain contact, and even if a long connection wasn’t needed for it, it would have been way too weird to give her diary back and ask her number, to me.
Most people don’t hesitate and just go straight, probably telling themselves they don’t have anything to lose, but that doesn’t really seem to be my case at the moment, I’m like...not really close to it. The proof is right here, I didn’t even do it.
I would just like to see her again, I wasn’t able to say anything much last time, and I’d really like to talk to her more, I don’t know why, I can’t seem to forget her like that, she’s not like most strangers I’ve before, she really is different, but at the same time, I relate to her a lot because of our similar tastes, and the way she was when I had last seen her, she was a bit, shy, but did seem to overcome it as much as she could.
I think that, if she paid attention, she must have sort of noticed it with me as well.
The short interaction doesn’t mean much as I only saw her once, and it didn’t necessarily mean that she really acted this way in general, or just when she was with me, but the small chat we had was enough for me to tell so.
I don’t know if not having the courage to directly go to her workplace wasn’t dumb from me, it literally was as simple as if she came here, I could have went there, but at the same time, if she wasn’t there, or if she found it weird, I can’t seem to think it could happened like that, while it simply could have been totally not awkward at all, and she would have been nice, I’m just making up ridiculous scenarios that she wouldn’t do, she didn’t seem like someone mean at all.
In resume, I literally came here in hopes to see someone that I hope won’t find me weird because I’m there, and will not assume I’m hanging around to bump into her or anything else, because that's literally something I’m gonna have trouble to answer to without feeling embarrassed. 
I guess I'm just gonna walk by the aisles, maybe I'll find something to keep myself occupied while I wait.
"—the diary? Yeah, I got it back, it's uh…a guy named Spencer that came to the shop to give it back to me."
Wait, is it…
"Oh, yeah. I know him, he comes here pretty often. I’m glad, he really seemed concerned and determined to find who it belonged to." 
That voice is Julia’s, I’m not sure about the first that I heard.
"Thankfully you were here. You did contribute too."
It could be her.
"No, it's nothing, I just happened to be there." 
"You did help, so, accept my gratitude."
She did mention my name, it could be her.
"Okay, thank you." Julia said.
"I prefer that."
"You're really acting like— give me a second please!" Julia said, as she gave me a glance that was so fast that I think that she didn't have time to recognize me. 
After that, just as I glanced at her, the girl she conversed with turned her head behind her, probably out of pure curiosity.
"Oh, you're here. It's been a while." Y/N seemed surprised, but delighted to see me.
"Oh, sorry...I didn't see it was you, I barely glanced at you." Julia apologized.
"It's no problem…really." I said, eyes wide as I kept my gaze on y/n.
"Did you need something?" Julia asked.
"Me? Oh, no, I just uh...heard y/n and came here, but uh…thanks for asking Julia."
"Are you okay?" Y/N asked, her brows furrowed.
"Y-yeah, I am. Totally. 100%.”
"Okay, uh…” She hesitated, giving Julia a glance. “We're gonna do something. Since you've been coming longer than me, you could help me find new books that you like and that I might too, is it ok?" She said, as I glanced between her and Julia, as if I was looking for an answer.
"Sure, let's uh...search."
"Let's search!" Y/N exclaimed, in a playful tone as she put her hand on my right shoulder, slightly pushing me further in the alley to get me to move before I even got to think of walking by myself.
Once we had disappeared from Julia’s sight, she looked at me, taking a look around as she gave me a small smile.
“I didn’t actually want you to search books with me, it was mainly so that we could exit this embarrassing situation.” Y/N said, slighty bouncing on her feet. “What were you up to here? Are you on a day off?”
“Oh, uh, yeah. For once, I don’t have anything to do; Same for you…?”
“Yeah, I worked a lot and replaced people, so they allowed me to have one day or two. By the way, were you up to? Hoping to see someone?”
"Someone? No, I uh, definitely wasn't hanging around here hoping to bump into you or anything..." 
“I never asked if it was me, but apparently, I have a feeling you really were hanging around to see me.”
“Maybe I did…?”
“I thought you would have forgotten me by then. I’m glad it’s not the case, I still thought about the ‘diary incident’ from the last day.”
“I didn’t, and yeah, I thought about it too.”
“I actually wanted to find you back, but when I came, I didn’t see you.”
“I...also did that. I could have gone to your workplace, but I...wasn’t sure. So, I just hoped to see you here I guess, I hope you don’t lose anything else, because I won’t be able to contact you, and I’ll have to go to where you work, hoping I don’t make a fool out of myself.”
“That won’t happen if I have yours.” She said, as she took her phone out of the back pocket of her bag, handing it to me. It took me a few seconds to realize what just went on before I took the phone out of her left hand, nervously typing my number, erasing it a million times when I typed the wrong number; after a few tries, I gave it back to her.
“That way you’ll be able to find me, even if I didn’t lose something.”
“Did we basically meet because you lost something?”
“Basically, yeah. Losing it wasn’t as bad as I thought.”
“I’m kinda glad that you did in a way.”
“Really? I didn’t think so, I just...didn’t think you’d pay such attention to it, it just was a small interaction, after all.”
“I couldn’t just do that, I couldn’t pretend to not pay attention to that, to resume the whole situation, you left your diary in the library and I wanted to figure out who you were.....and when I read it, it was different from most people I’ve met, I know that I shouldn't have read it at all, and that was completely inappropriate to do from me, but, as I read, not the entirety of course, because that would possibly qualify me as a weird person coming from you, or anyone that knows that I’m a complete stranger, but I really had the need to learn more from you that with just a few words, if...that seems clear, and totally not weird, because that’s...not what I’m trying to be. So, yeah.”
“I get it, yeah. I didn’t think you were weird at all though. You kinda reminded me of myself in a way, I’m always afraid that the person I’m talking to is bored and doesn’t dare to tell it because they’re afraid of hurting my feelings. I’m glad you didn’t find the small chat we had uninteresting, or annoying, you know, not something that made you waste your time.”
“Oh, it’s nothing, don’t worry, I really liked talking with you.”
“How about we have other conversations then? We could have one now, you could help me pick out books, I’m kind of bored of reading the same ones. How is that?”
“Yeah, sounds great, yeah.”
“I guess uh...lead the way?”
“Oh, yeah- I’ll lead the way.” I said, as we both walked towards the staircase leading to another section of the place, and although we only walked for just a minute, it felt like less, I didn’t stop staring at her that I almost tripped over the last step.
“What was on your mind? You almost fell down.”
“I uh...just got lost in my thoughts, for a bit. You know, thinking about books...and stuff.”
“Just books?”
“Yep’, just books, totally nothing else.”
“If you say so.” She said, with an amused tone.
“I’m telling the truth!”
“Your tone was saying otherwise.”
“My tone...how?”
“You sounded nothing but suspicious. Kind of obvious if we look at your face too.”
“I wasn’t aware of that.”
“Now you know genius.”
“Genius? What’s that nickname?”
“I don’t know, it suits you.” 
“And what’s your nickname? The-girl-that-forgets-her-stuff?”
“It was an accident, I only did it once!”
“You might do it, you gave me your number to call you in case you lose stuff.”
“No; it’s also so we can talk, that’s all.”
“Just that?”
“Yeah, just that. Now stop talking and show me books, you told me you’d help me, so do it now.”
“That wasn’t asked politely, try again.”
“Are you serious…?” She let out a laugh.
“Yes, why?” I answered, throwing her a smile and raising my eyebrows, as her smile dropped.
“Ugh...fine. Could you please help me to find new books, Spencer?”
“Now that’s better. Yes, I’ll help you.”
“I can’t believe that, we've known each other since one week or I don’t know how much and you’re already mistreating me.”
“I didn’t mistreat you, I just learned good manners to you, that’s all.”
“Good manners? Am I gonna have to talk to you like that whenever we’ll talk?”
“Exactly.”
“Tell me you’re kidding.”
“Maybe, maybe not.”
“You could have just said yes or no. Turns out you’re not the genius I thought you were.”
“What do you mean? Is there specific characteristics that define geniuses or what?”
“Yeah, and you seem totally not like it.”
“Hey! It’s not true, you don’t even know anything about me.”
“Oh yeah, and what do you have to call yourself a genius?”
“Uh, I don’t usually like to talk about it as it is mostly seen as me bragging about it by some people; but I currently have three PhDs in Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering and two BAs in Psychology and Sociology, and I’m also working on getting a third BA in Philosophy.”
“Did you say everything or...do you have more or something? Because I...kind of regret basically saying you were not smart.”
“Three more things…?”
“Okay, are they short or long ones?”
“The sentence is short, but once you know the meaning, they’re not so short...all of a sudden.”
“What are they?”
“Well, an IQ of 187...eidetic memory, and...I can also read 20,000 words per minute.”
“Okay...now I get the beforehand explanation.” She said, as she walked up to an alley, raising her arm at the column the book she must have chosen was. 
Well, she didn’t...quite reach it, only with the tip of her fingers. I don’t usually do that, but...I did have some fun watching her struggling, I think she knew she couldn’t reach it, but was trying anyway.
“Here, let me help.” I sighed, as I walked up behind her, raising my hand above her head to take the book. 
Ok, is my life a Christmas movie or what now? Not to say that I find it annoying, not at all, but it sounds very cliché to me. 
The girl can’t reach out something, so a guy comes out of nowhere to help, they begin to talk, and bam, they’re together one week later, just by magic.
“Thanks, but I could have reached it…”
“In ten years, maybe.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever grow anymore at my age.”
“Why? What are you, 52?”
"No! I’m 25.”
“We’re not that far at all then, we’re the same age. I figured you were younger though, you don’t have an adult face.”
“I do.”
“Is your face that convincing for you to be able to get alcohol without the cashier asking for your ID?”
“Whether I have an adult face or not, you always have to show it.”
“I don’t.”
“Fine, I have a baby face.”
“I was waiting for you to admit it, didn’t take as long as I expected it would.”
“I’m just admitting it now so you don’t bug me with it till I actually decide to.”
“I wouldn’t have dared to do it, don’t lie.” 
“I know you would have done it, if not, thought about it.” She admitted.
“I can’t deny it.”
“I knew it. Who’s the genius now?”
“Your IQ didn’t go up because you made me admit something.”
“I like to say it did go up a bit.”
“Okay, a bit. If you think so.”
“I do think so.”
“Okay, genius #2.”
“It’s not the best position for a smart girl like me, but I’ll accept it anyway.”
“Read these books if you say that you’re smart then.” I said, as I dropped two science books in her arms.
“I didn’t come here to read science now, so, no thanks.” She shoved the books back where I had taken them, scoffing.
“I’m trying to make you smarter, why don’t you accept my help?”
“I am smart, I don’t need help.”
“You sure? You did lose your diary.”
“It was an accident, don’t go and tell me you never forgot stuff somewhere.”
“I did, but I realized it before leaving the room at least.”
“Okay, what do you want me to admit?”
“That I’m uh...smart?”
“You’ll have to take me out on a date for that.”
“A date…? Like, a real one?”
“I thought you proved yourself to be smart enough to figure that out.” She smirked at me.
“I am! I just...got surprised by it.”
“Why? Nobody asks you on dates?”
“Not really.”
“Then that explains why I guess.”
“Explains what exactly?”
“That you never went on one, you ask if it was a real one. Of course it is.”
“I just...didn’t expect that. I don’t go out of my apartment expecting a girl is going to ask me out, especially a…”
“A what?”
“...a good looking one, it’s not everyday that I get to talk to girls that pretty.”
“Oh, thanks, I guess.”
“I really mean it. It wouldn’t have been correct for me to not say it, that’s probably why I sounded so awkward back at the shop.”
“I didn’t know it was because of me. I don’t meet guys that get intimidated by me often, they just casually talk with me whether I know them or not, you’re the first one that said that to me.”
“Well, let me say something, they’re all idiots. I don’t understand how anyone could talk to you that way. That might seem weird or creepy, whatever...but, if I had been there when guys were rude to you, whether I knew you or not, I would have helped you, the boyfriend, friend, cousin technique, you know...Okay, that was a weird thing to say.”
“Don’t worry, it’s okay. I would have done and said the same thing. You’re really nice.”
“Oh, it’s no problem.”
“So, you’re still up for the date?”
“Y-yeah, totally.”
“Okay. Do you uh...want to hang out a bit more…? If you don’t have anything else to do, I don’t feel like going home right now.”
“No, I don’t have anything to do.”
“What about...we stay here till the closure?” She asked.
“Even better; till they kick us out.”
“Till they kick us out.” She repeated.
After that, we really did stay till they had to tell us themselves that the place was about to close soon for the day. We did go out after, even if we didn’t plan on, and we just walked around, not even bothering about how far we’d go.
I would be lying if I said that we both got to our respective apartments at a decent hour, because, we actually said goodbye to the other at almost 2AM, when basically everyone got home, the streets were empty, only a few people were there, but not enough for the streets to be crowded.
I wish we would have stayed a bit more, I really felt at ease with her, so, deciding it finally was time to go was hard to do, because to me, time went by way too fast.
I do hope we’ll get to see each other more often (if both of our workplaces allow us to, of course), I just can’t wait to know more about her.
Although, now that all of that happened within a few weeks, changing more than I expected in my life, but, I think that from now on;
I’ll have a reason to pay more attention to my surroundings.
**
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troubatrain · 4 years
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four times you talked about having a baby + one time you did - k. hayes
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a/n: here’s a very cute fluffy 4+1 from my old blog! :)
I.
You watched Kevin on the floor, listening to the babbling toddler in front of him, laughing along with whatever his niece was trying to tell him. His sister had made the trip down to New York, and was out getting lunch with a friend while you and Kevin had offered to babysit. It was the first time you were meeting any members of his family, and you’d only been dating for a few months - but watching Kevin with his niece was doing something to you.
You pull your phone out of your pocket, snapping a photo of the two, “This is too cute.”
“You’re too cute,” Kevin says instantly, his niece walking over to you to be picked up, a grin finding its way to Kevin’s face.
You pick her up kissing the top of her forehead, “I think she’s cuter than both of us.”
You spend the rest of the afternoon in Kevin’s apartment, playing house with his niece. Watching Kevin run around his apartment with his niece was straight up endearing, and you were happy that she liked you too. She’d fallen asleep snuggled between you and Kevin, a couple of goldfish stuck to her Uncle’s shirt and she rested on your lap. By the time Kevin’s sister and her headed back to their hotel, you were absolutely exhausted - not even considering the idea of headed to your own place and opting to crash at Kevin’s.
“Do you think you want kids?” Kevin asks, plopping down next to you into bed, blue eyes looking at you full of hope.
You’d never really thought much about having kids, just thinking that at the time you were too young. It was something you wanted one day but you didn’t know when you wanted that. You’d just started your career and your relationship with Kevin was new but the way he took care of his niece and the way he always took care of you was starting to make you think a little differently.
“Yeah, one day. Don’t get any ideas though,” You scold, waving your finger at Kevin.
“I know, but one day sounds good,” Kevin says, pulling you into his chest.
Kevin lulls you to sleep that night, talking about the future he wants with you. You’d get married, Kevin would prefer in Boston but he’d let you pick regardless. Maybe you’d move to the suburbs, get a house outside of the city with a yard, so you could have some space for your future children. But he told you he’d be okay staying in the city if that’s what you wanted to do. It was romantic to hear him talk about your future like that, deciding that he would just come for the ride.
II.
Kevin’s large hands were tying your skates, while you looked down at him in his stall at MSG. It was Christmas and with Christmas came the family skate that you’d grown to love. The first year, you were terrified, considering you didn’t even know how to skate and you’d only met a handful of Kevin’s teammates.
“Do you think this will be our last one here?” You whisper, low enough so none of his teammates would hear you.
It was a thought that you’d tried to push out of your mind but there was no way you could at this point. The trade deadline was coming in a few months and Kevin was certain he’d be on the trading block. You’d pushed him to talk about it about tons of times but he kept putting it off, knowing he was nervous about a move out of New York.
“If it is, we’ll make it a memorable one,” Kevin places a kiss to your lips, pulling you up to step out onto the ice. 
You watch as Kevin skates around the ice, Marc Staal’s kids chasing after him in the intense game of tag they’d been playing, while you smile at him from the bench.
“He’s so good with them,” Lindsay, Marc’s wife, says to you on the bench, “I think they’re going to miss him if you guys go.”
You nod, know how many dinners Kevin’s had at their place long before you’d even started dating, “I know it’s going to happen but, we haven’t even talked about it.”
“You’d go with him no?” Lindsay asks, trying to gauge how you actually felt about it.
“I mean, yes, he’s the one but-” You start to say only to be interrupted by the woman next to you.
“Just talk to him about it,” Lindsay says, “I’m sure you guys will be okay”
That night you’d been sitting in your shared apartment, a rerun of some terrible reality TV rerun playing in front of you. Kevin was out grabbing ice cream, insisting you spent the night off snuggled up with a movie. Your mind wanders to the conversation you’d had the family skate, and how you felt watching Kevin skate around with Marc’s kids. It was what you wanted and you knew you wanted it with Kevin but you were scared of the future. You’d been so lost in your thoughts you didn’t even hear Kevin walk back into the apartment. A pint of ice cream finding its way into your hands.
“Hey Kev?” You ask, your voice small, “What are we going to do if you get traded.”
Kevin looked confused, “What do you mean?”
“I mean, am I going to stay here or do you want me to go with you?” You ask bluntly, deciding to just get to the root of what’s bothering you.
Kevin takes a deep breath, walking out of the room and into your shared bedroom. You can hear him rummaging through a dresser, or it could have been a nightstand and step back into your living room with a velvet box in his hand.
“I was planning on doing a better job at his, you know, I was going to plan a nice dinner, make sure you’d just gotten your nails done, the whole thing but I think I need to do this now,” Kevin says, dropping down to one knee, “Baby I love you, and I want to be with you. I want to have a family with you, and spend the rest of my life with you by my side - wherever that may take me. Will you marry me?”
You nod, tears threatening to spill from your eyes, flinging yourself forward to kiss Kevin, over and over again, “Did you actually just do that?”
Kevin smiles against your lips, “I’ve been hiding that since the summer.”
You pull back smiling at the man in front of you, “I can’t wait to marry you.”
Kevin grins back at you, “I can’t wait to have a family, we could be like Marc and Lindsay with all those kids running around the ice.”
The idea seemed like a dream to you, but in reality you were getting to live that life with a man who loved and cared about you. Kevin spends the night talking about your future, the plans seeming more definite than the first time he’d done that. Settling on having three kids, and a summer wedding - even mentioning you could get a dog even though he was afraid of them.
III.
You’d ended up following Kevin to Winnipeg and then to Philly easily. You’d been making an adjustment, but Philadeliphia was starting to feel like home more and more everyday. Kevin was happy and he loved his new team - which made it easier for you to follow suit. You’d both started to become acquainted with the city and you knew this was going to be a good place for the two of you.
You bounce the baby on your lip, singing a nursery rhyme while moving around your kitchen, causing Gavin to laugh. You’d ended up babysitting, Claude’s wife, Ryanne, calling you last minute to complain about their sitter canceling their date night. You and Kevin had agreed on a night in, so you offered to take their son for a few hours. You loved Gavin, and quite honestly you spend more time at games playing with him than paying attention to your fiance on the ice.
“I think we should have a boy first,” Kevin says, sitting on the island watching you with the baby.
“I don’t think that’s for us to decide Kev,” You joke, blowing raspberries into Gavin’s cheek, causing the baby to giggle, “Right Gav, tell him, he’ll be happy with what he gets.”
“What do you want?” Kevin asks, holding his arms out for you to pass him the baby.
“A boy doesn’t sound too bad,” You admit, thinking about how many outfits you’d bought for Gavin that you’d love hanging up in a nursery of your own, “What brought this up?”
“You know, we’re getting married soon, and you just look really good singing nursery rhymes in our kitchen,” Kevin admits, “And c’mon you don’t want a little me running around?”
Kevin holds Gavin next to his face with a pout, rubbing his beard onto the baby’s cheeks causing him to giggle and wiggle in Kevin’s enormous hands. It was a sight for sure, and one that often made you think about just letting Kevin knock you up before the wedding.
“I’m not going to be pregnant at our wedding,” You scold, “I’ve spent too much time planning to not be able to drink.”
“You’ve got a good point, we’ll make a honeymoon baby,” Kevin assures you, as if you had a choice.
IV.
Newlywed life was coming to a halting stop the second you touched down in Philadelphia. The summer of bliss that you’d just experienced was about to be burst in with the reality of a new season starting. You’d bought a new place, the space in the city was far more family friendly than the apartment you’d been living in last season. There were plenty of bedrooms, and some outdoor space that still resided in the city. You’d finally finished unpacking, stepping back after hanging up the last of your wedding photos in the living room.
“They look good there,” Kevin says, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you off the couch, spinning you around, “You were right, I do like this place.”
Kevin wasn’t entirely on board with moving, but you knew he wanted to start a family and you wanted somewhere in Philly that you would come back to - a real permanent home. It took a little convincing but you managed to get him to crack while you were on your honeymoon.
You had one surprise that came with the house, and it sat in a box in your kitchen. Inside was a pregnancy test - that you’d taken a day before you moved down to Philly for the season. A very tiny jersey, with your now shared last name on the back, a bright number thirteen stitched onto the back. And to complete a very small stuffed Gritty that you had bought on impulse one day. You were excited to finally share the news with Kevin, keeping it a secret while you both handled all the craziness that came with moving and training camp coming up.
“I have something for you,” You say, slipping out of his arms and grabbing the box from the kitchen - dropping it into his lap, “Open it.”
You were on the edge of your seat watching him open the box and pulling the small jersey out, looking down at what was underneath it, “You’re pregnant?”
“I’m pregnant,” You confirm, placing your hand over your stomach.
“You, my wife, you’re pregnant, we’re having a baby,” Kevin blurted out, a goofy grin gracing his face, “Baby, we’re having a baby!”
You laugh, knowing this is the exact reaction you’d get out of your husband, “I take it you’re happy?”
“Easily the best thing that’s happened to me,” Kevin says, grabbing both sides of your face and kissing you over and over again. He spent the next week telling everybody he came in contact with that he was, in fact, having a baby.
Plus One
You hear a large crash, and a chorus of laughs coming from what was supposed to be your future son’s nursery. You sigh, curling your hands around the def-caf tea you’d been drinking, counting down the days until you actually start drinking coffee again, and you walk into the room, a piece of what was supposed to be a crib on the floor, and TK, Nolan and Kevin’s eyes staring at you.
“Sorry,” They all said in unison, guilt across their faces.
You give them a smile, “It’s fine guys, please be careful, and get this done.”
You decided to stay in Philly until you had the baby, the season ending when you’d hit around eight months and the stress of heading up back to Boston just seemed like too much at the time. Now, you were a week until your due date and you and Kevin had pushed everything till now in regards to setting up a place for your son. It was starting to stress you out, and honestly you were grateful for Travis and Nolan’s help, even if it was like having two kids in your house already.
You felt your stomach cramp up and a feeling in your stomach that this baby was coming, you gasp and look at Kevin, your eyes scared, “Kev - I think it’s happening.”
--
Nine hours of labor later, your son entered the world in a way somehow more chaotic than the way Kevin entered your life. Kevin did good, keeping his cool for most of your pregnancy and labor that you were honestly surprised. He finally cried, when he held your baby for the first time, calmly talking to the little boy who he loved probably more than he loved you. You got lucky, in all the craziness of what was going on, Travis and Nolan stayed back and somehow put together all of your furniture in the nursery, even leaving a few gifts behind for your baby boy.
“Thank you for this,” Kevin confesses, the two of you and your son being the only people left in the hospital room, exhausted from the day of visitors, “I mean I knew we’d get here, but I’m grateful we actually did.”
“I hope you’re still grateful when you have to change diapers at 3 am,” You say, knowing the hard part was definitely coming.
“I promised I’d do it, and I will,” Kevin assures you, intending on keeping the promise that you carried that baby for nine months and that he would take on the middle of the night diaper duties.
And you fell asleep that night like you did so many nights before, Kevin rambling about your future, all the things he wants to teach his son. How he can’t wait to teach him to skate, and how he can play whatever sport he wants - or it would be fine if he didn’t play sports at all. Kevin’s voice lulled you and your little family to sleep - and you knew he’d do that forever.
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1ddotdhq · 4 years
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🍿Fri 9 Oct ‘20🃏
Hahahahahahahaha hahahahahahaha hahahaha. Okay. Am I done? I think I’m done. So, um. What kind of day has it been, guys? 
Let’s start with the...less unusual, and then really get into it. Harry’s team has sent his for your consideration Grammy packet to the music academy, Back To You was certified Platinum in the United States (!!! it’s what she deserves!!), Niall first posted to let us know he was going out and about with his bike, and then, sure enough, was seen out and about in London today with his $7.5K cherry red bike and Navy Blue bike shorts (note: he wasn’t riding his bike - he was walking it), Zayn and Gigi had their first date night ft. pasta [!] at the farm house since the birth of their daughter, and someone from the GBBO baked a Harry Styles cake, but the flavor is still unknown. Niall also took to twitter to tell everyone that the last four years of the Trump presidency feels like an episode of punk’d. 
That’s a GREAT segue into what the rest of the day felt like for me! First, someone noticed that Louis’ (official) website had been changed: the Walls CD was now listed as having 13 tracks instead of 12. Was this? A deluxe version? A new song? A website editor’s mistake? And then, if that wasn’t confusing enough, Louis registered a new song that was co-written with Jamie Hart and credited Noel Gallagher (the exact same people credited on Walls, the song). The song registered was called “Today Show” and that immediately got people wondering if THIS could be the secret 13th song on the album! Alas, it is not. Apparently, it is the registration of the performance of Walls, the song, from the Today Show, which explains the writing credits. It does not explain the secret 13th song, but at this point, the easiest explanation is that a graphic designer made a typo. 
Louis had no comment on the potential new songs, but he DID show up in Liam’s live! Oh my God. Liam’s live. Okay, well. The first thing we should talk about is that he has called his Halloween show his biggest yet, and he has not yet decided on a costume (pls be Harry Potter) but he was open to suggestions: Leroy the Choreographer was a popular one, as was Harry Styles (“which era of Styles, though?”), and even old school Liam himself. We got a reprise of parts of Watermelon Sugar and the “a door”/Adore discourse and even a bit of a live reaction to the song itself, and a confirmation that Liam and Tom are gonna do a duet (“I slithered in” jkfdhfkjda !!!!!). 
Okay, then. That’s about it for the sort of weird news, now let's get into the REALLY ODD things. It started normally enough, with the chat asking Liam what his favorite country was, and he said that his favorite trip was getting to go to Africa with Ant Middleton (the British reality TV adventurer), which he called “eye opening”. He said that the TV special they did together was them talking about their lives, and went on to say, “it was good, it was good, I slept on the floor with loads of animals. It was like being in One Direction!” and cackled (I did too!). “Sorry,” he said, “I HAD TO!”. Uh, no, you didn’t, said Louis, who popped on to tell him to “watch your mouth”. “AYYYY,” said Liam, “Louis’ watching...I bet [he] won’t come on, because [he’s] camera shy!” Dicho y hecho, Louis was like No <3 and DID NOT send a request to join the live. “He makes me feel WARM,” said Liam about Louis. YEAH CUZ  HE’S THE SUN HAVEN’T YOU HEARD???? 
Was it for Lilo?? NO! OF COURSE NOT! In a second live, Liam, about thirteen minutes in, said, “Oh! Hang on! We *really* have to talk about something!”, and started talking about how “the other day” he took Maya (who had been in the fandom before dating him) to see a movie she had been wanting to watch - “After We Collide”. He described the film as “not the sort he’d watch” and “RAUNCHY as hell”, and then! He found out - AFTER (hehe) watching the movie - that the characters were based on One Direction (*giggles loudly* “which I mean was just the FUNNIEST THING EVER”). AND IF THAT WASN’T ENOUGH, Maya then made him watch the FIRST film in the series (“which I kind of sat through”). About the whole thing, he said, “it was...an interesting viewing perspective”. 
Liam liked that his character (Landon, apparently) was a caring half brother who wanted the best for everyone, however, he said, “I feel like, sometimes, I’m a little bit the main guy [YIKES]...Who was obviously based on Mr. Styles”. He then said, with a completely straight face, “I feel like we always have a bit of Hardin Scott in us - that sounds weird”. He said that he really went down the rabbit hole with this one (oof), and realized that Landon’s physical description was “a young David Beckam”, and then he started giggling again. He did manage to stop laughing long enough to 1.) call fanfiction and fan creation “so cool” 2.) confirm that he’s now in it for the long haul and will be watching the third installment of the series and 3.) to tell Louis to watch it! “If Louis is [still] watching,” he said, starting to laugh again, “PLEASE just go and check that out for me. Just please dedicate an hour of your life, and just. Just have a little watch”. Liam’s chaotic energy? UNMATCHED! Honestly, I also want to hear Louis’ thoughts on this movie - I have a feeling they aren’t going to be as diplomatic as Liam’s were.
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oikawaplssteponme · 4 years
Text
The Apartment: part 1
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pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x fem! reader
rating/warnings: swearing
synopsis: You knew that living with your three best friends, Kuroo, Oikawa, and Bokuto, would be a wild ride. It’s never a dull moment with those three. Let’s just hope you can keep your huge crush on Kuroo a secret when he is only a room away.
a/n: AHH HIII💓omg im so excited to be writing a new fic!! this fic is gonna be different style than my last one but i hope you guys like it!! honestly, Kuroo, Bokuto, and Oikawa is the trio we all needed but never got. so enjoy my take on it ;) also there will be a new taglist for this fic so just lmk if you would like to be added! as always, requests and asks are open! okay enough from me, enjoy xx
One: Britney Spears poster
“Hey Y/N, can you grab this last box?” asked Bokuto. You nodded, picking up the box labeled ‘kitchen’ from the back of Bokuto’s car. Today was move-in day for your first off-campus apartment. You were beyond excited to start living with your 3 best friends: Bokuto, Kuroo, and Oikawa. From an outside perspective, your friend group would look chaotic and dysfunctional, and it was, but you wouldn’t trade those 3 idiots for anything.
“Okay that’s the last of it,” you said as you carried the box towards the elevator. You rode up with Bokuto and entered your apartment. Brown boxes covered the floor, music blaring from room to room.
“Oikawa turn it down or else we are gonna get a notice on the first damn day!” yelled Kuroo. You laughed as you heard Oikawa shuffle towards the speaker to lower the volume.
“Okay guys, everyone grab the boxes for their rooms so we can start putting shit away,” you ordered. The 3 stooges stood in front of you.
“Yes ma’am,” they called back, giving you a sarcastic salute. You rolled your eyes and grabbed your first box.
Living with your 3 best friends was something you never really thought would happen. You all had joked about it when you were kids but to have it became a reality was another story. You all grew up together so there was no surprise to how close you all were. You may have all gone to different high schools so college seemed like the perfect way to reconnect.
You and Oikawa shared a room while Kuroo and Bokuto shared the other. You and Oikawa had been glued to the hip since birth. You didn’t have many close ‘girl’ friends so Tooru was the next best thing.
“Jeez how many pairs of tiny sunglasses do you have?” you asked, looking down at the arrangement of color coded sunglasses.
“Well Iwachan got me them so I cherish them,” he explained. You laughed and continued to unpack your things.
Hours passed and your room was finally up to your standards. You went for something simple yet still your style. Kuroo and Bokuto had moved on to organizing the living room.
“OIKAWA!” yelled Kuroo. Oikawa jumped, giving you the ‘oh shit I’m screwed’ look.
“How many times do I have to tell you that the Britney Spears poster does NOT belong in the kitchen?” Kuroo clenched Oikawa’s Britney poster, almost to the point of ripping it.
“Oh so now you don’t like Britney but on the whole car ride here you were singing along-“
“OKAY we don’t need to talk about that,” interrupted Kuroo.
“She’s better than your stupid Periodic Table posters...” mumbled Oikawa. You tried to hold back your laughter.
“Hey you take that back! The Periodic Table of seasonings fits perfectly with the kitchen!” barked Kuroo. Oikawa rolled his eyes, snatching the poster from Kuroo’s hands.
“God you are such a nerd,”
“And you are such a tw-”
“DON’T YOU SAY IT!” Oikawa gave Kuroo the death stare. Their playful bickering was your favorite form of entertainment.
“Sorry sorry...twink” Kuroo ran out of the room and Oikawa was now chasing him.
“GOD DAMN IT KUROO!”
You bursted out laughing as you heard a crash on the floor, assuming that Oikawa was now jumping on Kuroo. Bokuto stood at the doorway of your room with a confused look.
“What happened?”
~
The four of you continued to organize your apartment until nightfall. Once everything was put into place, the boys crashed on the couch and turned on the TV.
“Should I pick up a pizza?” You asked.
“Is that even a question?” joked Bokuto.
“One cheese and one meat-lover?”
The boys nodded enthusiastically. You made the phone call and went to sit on the empty loveseat.
“It’s gonna be about 15 minutes,” you explained. The boys gave you a thumbs up.
“Guys we did it, we’re actually living together,” gushed Oikawa.
“Don’t go and get soft on me now Shitty-kawa,” you laughed. Oikawa turned to you and groaned.
“Y/N you ruin everything damn it. I’m trying to be a good, sentimental friend, and you just-“ you interrupt Oikawa by moving to the couch and jumping on him.
“JESUS Y/N I’M FRAGILE!” He complained as you sat on his lap.
“And you wonder why you’re a piece of shit,” you gave him a sarcastic hug. “But seriously, I’m so happy to be living with you morons. We’ve been dreaming about this forever.”
“Yeah, crazy to think we actually did it,” smiled Kuroo.
“I LOVE YOU GUYS!” yelled Bokuto. You laughed.
“Bring it in guys,” you pulled Kuroo and Bokuto towards you and Oikawa for a tight hug.
“Oh so when Bokuto gets sentimental it’s totally fine...”
“Shut up Shitty-kawa and enjoy the hug.”
~
“Who is coming with me to pick up the pizza?” you asked. Oikawa was asleep on the couch and Bokuto was very invested in the episode of ‘Gilmore Girls’ that was playing.
“I’ll go,” said Kuroo.
“Okay come on then. We’re taking your car,” you snagged Kuroo’s car keys off the counter and ran out the door.
“Y/N-chan there is no way I’m letting you drive my car!” you heard him yell from inside the apartment. You quickly pressed the elevator button and jumped inside. Kuroo’s voice trailed off as the elevator moved down to the first floor. You exited the elevator and thought you had gotten away with driving Kuroo’s car.
“Not so fast Y/N-chan!” Kuroo snuck up behind you, picked you up, and tossed you over his shoulder. He took the keys from your hand and carried you towards the car.
“Tetsurou put me down!” you begged. Kuroo set you down in front of the passenger door.
“If you wanted to win you should have taken the stairs. And I’m driving silly,” he smirked. You rolled your eyes before getting in the car.
You and Kuroo drove until arriving at the pizza place. You waited in the car while he went inside to pay. For some reason, you felt nervous about being alone with Kuroo. You’d been alone with him a million times before, so why was this time any different? Of course, it had nothing to do with the grey sweatpants he was wearing. Or the fact that he drives a stick shift car and his veins popped every time he would shift gears. Or because you have had a crush on him since you were 6-years old. No, that had nothing to do with it.
Kuroo came back, opened the car door, and handed you the pizzas to hold onto. You rested them on your lap as the two of you drove back.
“I’m glad we’re are finally living together,” said Kuroo. You looked at him, the butterflies coming back in your stomach. “All of us I mean of course,” he clarified.
“Yeah, it’s gonna be super fun. Hopefully, we all survive,” you joked. Kuroo chuckled.
“It’ll be fine Y/N-chan,” Kuroo smiled, giving you a pat on the head.
~
When the two of you got back to the apartment, Oikawa had woken up.
“We are watching ‘Mean Girls’!” argued Oikawa. He was practically climbing on Bokuto for the remote.
“We watched ‘Mean Girls’ last time! I wanna watch ‘Unsolved Mysteries’!” said Bokuto. You couldn’t help but laugh at them.
“Everytime we watch ‘Unsolved Mysteries’ you end up calling Akaashi because you get scared!”
“Pizzas here,” you announced. All fighting ceased the minute you said those magic words. You grabbed some paper plates and napkins and watched as each of the boys piled pizza onto their plates. You grabbed yourself two pieces of cheese pizza and went to sit on the loveseat. Kuroo sat next to you while Bokuto and Oikawa sat on the couch.
“I’m picking what we watch,” said Kuroo. He turned on a volleyball game and of course, there were no complaints.
After stuffing all your bellies with pizza, the four of you decided to head to bed. You said goodnight to Bokuto and Kuroo and were now nestled in your bed. Oikawa laid on his bed.
“How was picking up the pizza with Kuroo?” asked Oikawa. You rolled your eyes.
“It was good,” you muttered. Oikawa laughed.
“Still not over that crush yet are you?” he teased. You groaned. Oikawa was the only one who knew about your crush on Kuroo. You let it slip during one of your all-night sleepovers you two would have when you were kids.
“So what if I’m not, it doesn’t matter anyway.”
“You know that if you had just told him during high school, you two could be dating by now.”
You sighed.
“I don’t know. I don’t wanna ruin our friendship and he probably doesn’t even like me. I see no good outcome of him knowing,” you explained.
“You’ll never know unless you tell him.” As much as you hated to admit it, Oikawa was right. There was always the 1% chance that Kuroo would like you back. But, the friendship you two had didn’t seem worth risking. You just hoped that living together wouldn’t stir your feelings out of proportion.
[taglist OPEN: @vangoghmusings @vangoghpoets @lilnuances]
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letsperaltiago · 4 years
Text
right next to the right one
Nothing special but here is a small, 100% fluff moment from very early Peraltiago. I imagined it taking place somewhere in between ‘New Captain’ and ‘The funeral’. Enjoy 💕
Read on AO3
It’s their first night together – or, more like, the first night they go to bed together without ripping each other’s clothes off in the heat and heaviness caused by four drinks.
They’re at Amy’s place this time. Jake is nervously fiddling around her bedroom trying to get ready for bed without interrupting or getting in the way of whatever punctual night routine Amy Santiago must have. They did just have their first date a few days ago, and maybe there are a lot of sides to her that he hasn’t met yet; although it doesn’t take a genius to know that surely Amy has some kind of step-by-step pattern she walks through before heading to bed.
Or that’s what he thinks. Suddenly she reemerges from the bathroom, only five minutes after first leaving the bedroom, and looks completely calm and ready for bed. Not freaked out because she’s running behind schedule or missing steps. No kind of ritual seems to be playing out and Jake has to admit to himself: he’s slightly confused.
“That was fast?” Jake quizzes from where he’s standing by the foot of her bed still dressed like he’s about to leave and Amy frowns. Both because of the statement, which sounds more like a question, but also because she thought he too would be ready for bed by now.
“You sound confused? I just removed my makeup and brushed my teeth – it doesn’t take that long.” She cocks her eyebrows telling him that no, not all women spend an hour in the bathroom… Jake feels bad for questioning her, and all women out there, but is quickly interrupted by her picking up on him being far from ready for bed.
“But why are you still dressed? Get in bed, silly!” She chuckles and gets into bed on what he assumes is her usual side. He secretly hopes that one day the other side will become his. Too soon, he thinks and shakes it off. One step at a time.
Jake contemplates whether or not he should explain himself but quickly figures that it doesn’t matter. Her lack of strict routine just tells him that she’s relaxed in her own home, around him, and that he likes - a lot. Also, Amy looks really cute in nothing but an oversized NYPD-shirt and panties.
“Oh, yeah sorry. Just didn’t know where to put my stuff and I didn’t want to like…” he shuffles nervously to the free side of the bed, probably looking stupid, and he hates that he’s so nervous. By no means does he want her to notice; maybe think she’s the one making him nervous. Actually he just likes her so stupid much that he’d rather stand there and look stupid than mess up her room or do something else that’ll give him away; do something that’ll let her know he isn’t the one for her. “… I didn’t want to Jake up your room.”
She’s just gotten under the covers, sitting against the headboard with her current book in her lap, but seems to forget about it and suddenly freeze on the spot with her eyes on him. Not in an accusing way or with an expression that lets him know he needs to leave; rather a look of warmth and appreciation… Maybe even a hint of amusement. Then she crawls across the bed to his side and stands on her knees.
“Jake…” she grabs him by the hoodie and pulls him in so that he stands as close to her as the edge of the bed will allow. Everything she says comes out with a special warmth radiating from her lips and eyes, something he’s only ever seen in her. “I appreciate the thought, but… You’ve already Jake’d up my life so a little Jake’ing up my bedroom won’t hurt me. Okay?”
The way the words fall from her lips, full of calmness and serenity, has him pacified without delay. The soft peck to his lips radiates a welcoming feeling Jake can’t deny. Confidence slowly seeps back into him, and he finally feels as if he can answer her searching, soft brown eyes.
“Okay,” he’s finally able to let down his shoulders, his overall guard, and return her smile with a matching radiation of serenity and calmness.
It’s so stupid how much he likes her, he thinks. It partially scares him although never enough to chase him away. Before he even has the time to realize it, as if it’s second nature to him, he rids himself of his clothes. Few minutes later his outfit is, somewhat, neatly hanging on a chair nearby. He smiles sheepishly and Amy chuckles, nodding in approval: perhaps he’s not too bad at this after all, he thinks and falls into Amy Santiago’s bed.
Everything is so brand new to the both of them yet quickly falls into a rhythm that feels normal: everything from Amy reading her book by his side to the way the Jake’s late night cartoon’s flicker in the background without bothering her.
Amy feels it too. The normality of the new them. For the past few days they’ve been together, Amy’s already wondered many times: how? She puts down her book and lies down on her side to get a better look at his side profile.
She can’t tell if the cartoons that deserve credit for calming him down, causing him to zone out of reality, but Amy enjoys this side of Jake. The Jake that is just… there. With her.
She wonders, after going through what they both went through to get to each other, how she got so lucky? Suddenly, very out of nowhere, she finds herself fully focused on the mand beside her and something feels just a tad different. All night she’d felt so nonchalant, so easy going about him being around, that it didn’t occur to her just how lucky she is and now she can’t stop wondering, over and over, how? How is he here after all their ups and down, exes, friend zones and whatnot?  
“Hey.”
It falls out of her before she can comprehend it or try to stop it, and as soon as his head calmly turns to look at her Amy knows she has to carry through with this. The shifting colorful light from the TV casts a warm shadow on the side of his face that is turned away from it, and Amy halts for a second taking in the sight in front of her. The man by her side is so gently, so easily tuned in to her and the flickering lights enhances all of her favorite facial features. Features she can kiss now, whether she believes it or not, and features she gets to run her hands and fingers along if she wishes to.
“Hey,” he answers with a soft smile inviting her to speak her mind, because of all people, Amy Santiago alwayshas an agenda. Jake knows.
In contrast to how ready she felt just seconds ago, she all of the sudden, now that the first word is out and the attention is on her, feels so shy. Probably has furiously blushing cheeks too. Knowing Jake, he’s probably already noticed.
“What’s up?” he tries.
Amy considers not speaking her mind, instead just joke it off like they often do. Most of the time that’s a fine solution… But this moment, for some reason, feels more important. Like it’s not supposed to be brushed off. Amy genuinely has some things on her mind.
“I just,” she cuts herself off nervously biting down on her bottom lip. “I just can’t believe we’re here… Like, together.”
If her blush wasn’t very evident before then it definitely is now, and she has to look away from him just to keep calm. His eyes, especially with the soft look he has right now, all of the sudden seems so overwhelming. In the good way. The scary way too. Just a year ago she would’ve never believed anyone telling her that Jake Peralta would come to make her feel this way.
“I know.” Jake chuckles and Amy dares to look back at him. He’s looking straight ahead again but this time not at the TV, she can tell. He looks deep in thought, smiling, and Amy feels less scared. If the man of a thousand issues is smiling at the thought of them (she hopes) then everything is probably alright.
“Like even after everything that’s come between us, constantly demotivating the process like… wrong timing, being undercover, Sophia, Teddy…” she trails off realizing just how many odds have been against them for the past two years or so.
He slowly nods in agreement still staring into air with a small smile on his face as if he’s seeing something she isn’t.
“Yeah… To me, the whole thing with Teddy was never that demotivating though. On the contrary.”
Amy’s eyebrows dip into a confused frown.
“Really.” Jake finally turns his head to look at her and the flickering lights make him look that more handsome, like in a movie scene, all over again. She loves when he looks at her, even if it’s just been a few days. If Jake was the last person to ever look at her, just like he is right now, she would die happy. Somehow it feels like he’s done it for longer – maybe he has and she just hasn’t noticed?
“This is going to sound super dumb, but every time I saw you with him I was bummed out, yes, but it also made me even more sure: I wanted to be the one to be with you. I wanted all the small moments he got with you… Like siting at Shaw’s making you smile and laugh while drinking beer; competing with you about dumb stuff that only we care about and everyone rolls their eyes at us; picking you up from work – even though we literally sit across from each other, I now realize as I’m saying it out loud.”
They both chuckle in unison but on the inside they both feel their hearts burst with joy at this small confession. Silence, a comfortable one, takes over. Amy sees his face switch to the one he always put on when he’s being serious and genuine. Her heart skips yet another beat.
”I guess I kinda always knew I wanted be where he was standing, you know? Next to you. Holding your hand even, if I was really lucky.” He chuckles but so softly that Amy can tell he’s still being serious.
Amy nods, entranced, and if it wasn’t for what said next then the moment definitely would’ve been a fully and completely soft moment - alike nothing she’d ever witnessed Jake Peralta in before. The man beside her is nervously fiddling with his fingers and she can tell Jake has crossed some emotional boundaries with this confession tonight. Which is also why she doesn’t comment on it when he flees the intensity of the romantic moment with a joking remark.
“And if that isn’t motivation for ya then I don’t know what is.” His voice switches to the goofy tone he speaks in most of the time and soft Jake slowly fades away, into fun Jake with his still tall walls up. Although Amy knows he means every word he’s just said. That is enough for her; enough to keep her cheeks blushing and lips in the shape of a moved smile. Enough to keep her around for what feels like will be a long time.
“Well…” she scoots over to his side of the bed and pulls his head down to press a playful kiss to his cheek, like a schoolgirl would to her crush, and it’s Jake’s turn to blush. She pulls back but stays close, turns his head with her hand bringing them nose to nose. She’s still blushing but she doesn’t care. He can see her colors - all of them.  
“Here you are, Peralta. And it feels so much better having you here.”
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boxoftheskyking · 3 years
Text
Pick Up Every Piece, Part Five
In which we have a scene at the bar
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four
--
Early November 2000
When Jiang Cheng comes to the bar on his own, he lets Wei Ying watch his back. Which is to say, he sits at the bar and doesn’t spend the whole time half-turned to keep an eye on the door. When Jin Zixuan joins them, he hangs by the corner of the bar by the weird old poker machine that hasn’t worked in years, and he mostly avoids eye contact.
“Hey Zixuan,” Wei Ying says, grinning. “How’s your cousin?”
“Hm?” He’s so polite, always, in a snobby kind of way. Like he knows he’s better than you, but he’s far too well-bred to admit it. Wei Ying sometimes wonders if he got that from his mother. Wei Ying has never really spoken to Mrs. Jin outside of an awkward few minutes at the wedding, but what he knows of the rest of the family is far more in the “knows they’re better than you and will tell you to your face” camp.
“Your cousin, you know.” He winks at Jiang Cheng. “It’s the liiiiiife of the Jin!”
Jiang Cheng joins in, “What’s going down in Lanling—”
“Cut it out!” Zixuan reaches out like he’s going to cover Jiang Cheng’s mouth, but he doesn’t. 
“It’s catchy!” Jiang Cheng giggles. It’s a gratifying sight.
“That show should be outlawed,” Zixuan says darkly.
“It’s genius,” Wei Ying argues, drinking in the two of them there, together. “Nie Huaisang is a visionary.”
“I’m going to have him imprisoned. He’s a curse.”
“He’s a genius. It’s a totally new art form.”
Jiang Cheng snorts. “Art form. It’s boring. I like seeing Jin Zixun humiliated as much as anyone, but it’s just rich people sitting around being stupid and rich.”
“It’s reality, but also pure escapism. It’s brilliant.”
“It’s a threat to national security,” Zixuan says. Wei Ying cackles.
Jiang Cheng makes a face. “There’s no story! There’s no, like, script.”
“There is a story! It’s all how Huaisang edits it.” Wei Ying hasn’t actually talked to Nie Huaisang in years, so he’s not that personally invested, but he can’t resist the chance to disagree with both Jiang Cheng and Jin Zixuan at the same time.
Zixuan slides his glass over for a refill. “Zixun is never going to get a real job. He has no skills, he can’t do anything useful, so he sits around and has cameras follow him? It’s a disgrace.”
“It’s the most watched show in the country. I watch it every week.”
Jiang Cheng intercepts Zixuan’s glass to steal a sip. “That’s because you also don’t have a real job.”
“Serve yourself then, asshole.”
“We don’t watch reality TV, we work. We’re civil servants.”
“I’ve written six columns on The Life of Jin, I’ll have you know. So it is my job. And I’m more of a civil servant than you, I barely make any money.” It earns him a pair of eyerolls, but they won’t insult the paper to his face. Not anymore. “I can’t believe they made you both work today.” It’s the wrong thing to say, and Wei Ying covers his wince to fill a row of pints.
“Yeah, well.” Zixuan scratches the back of his neck. He keeps his hair a bit long, like Jiang Cheng does, but on him it feels like a memorial. “Five years. I guess I can’t keep getting time off forever.”
Jiang Cheng is drumming his fingers on the bar, looking away.
“Five years to the day, though,” Wei Ying offers. He leans in, almost wanting to touch . . . something, then twirls away to ring someone up. He feels like a bird, a swallow, dipping and soaring and coming in close for a moment before getting scared back up to a tree top.
When he comes back the tension has receded.
“Dad wants me to move over to the business side of things,” Zixuan is saying.
“Leave intelligence?” Jiang Cheng’s brow furrows, clearly already imagining following his brother-in-law over to the corporate hellhole of Jin Industries.
“Yeah. He keeps talking about the CEO gig, as if I’m qualified.”
“No offense,” Wei Ying says, “but your dad has never been big on qualified.”
“What about Guangyao?” Jiang Cheng asks.
“He’s not the face Dad wants for the company. I don’t know, it’s like during the war, he’s staying back in his lab and his back office, tinkering with stuff. Dad wants a stupid— A face. You know, dynasty bullshit.”
“Like those propaganda posters.” Wei Ying grins at him. “That noble profile. I had one on my bedroom wall.”
“Don’t be creepy.” Jiang Cheng goes to smack him, but he ducks away. “You did not.”
“It wasn’t propaganda.” Zixuan sighs, having lost this argument before.
“It was good propaganda,” Jiang Cheng argues.
Wei Ying keeps his thoughts to himself, for once. He doesn’t comment on Jin Guangyao, either, though he could. A drunk girl yells at him from the other side of the bar, which helps.
“But like—” Zixuan takes a long gulp, spinning his fingers in frustration, looking for the words. “This is what I trained for. I joined the army at eighteen. I was in the army when it was just prison security and diplomatic escorts. My degree is decoration, and he knows that. It’s an art piece on the office wall, it doesn’t mean anything. I don’t know how I’m supposed to just become this business guy. It’s like— He doesn’t actually know me, who I am, what I’m good at. He just expects me to work wherever he plugs me in, to just be the best at whatever he thinks I should be the best at. I’m already the best at something. Right? I’m too old to be the best at something else.”
Wei Ying shrugs in sympathy. “Welcome to your thirties, eh?”
Jiang Cheng drains his glass, his third already. “He wants you to be a liquid.”
“What?”
“He thinks you’re a liquid. Your dad. Fit the shape of your container.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m not a fucking liquid.”
Jiang Cheng points at him. “That’s right. You’re not a fucking liquid.”
“I’m a solid.”
“You’re solid as shit, man.” Jiang Cheng pounds on Zixuan’s chest, and he winces slightly.
It’s nine o’clock, so Wei Ying decides he gets to pour himself a whiskey. He puts an orange slice in it, for vitamins.
Jin Zixuan looks into his own glass, thoughtfully. “Although, I mean. What’s a liquid without a container? Just a puddle, right?”
“Or a river,” Jiang Cheng says. They pause to contemplate rivers.
“What kind of liquid would you be?” Wei Ying asks, watching the gold of his liquor swirl around the melting ice cubes and the orange peel.
Zixuan huffs a laugh. “I don’t know. What do you think?”
“Vegetable soup,” Wei Ying says, then winces again.
“Soup,” Jiang Cheng agrees, quietly.
“Yeah,” Zixuan says. “Soup.”
They stare down into their glasses, drink.
“That reminds me,” Zixuan says, rallying after a long moment and pulling his fancy silver business card holder out of his breast pocket. “I got a new number.”
He hands Wei Ying a classy white card. It’s not his government one, just his phone number and his new email. Of course Jin Zixuan would have a personal business card, printed up by a printing company somewhere.
“Did you get rid of the old phone?” Wei Ying asks, carefully. Jiang Cheng looks between them, also careful, saying nothing.
“No, I just had to— I moved it to the basement. I can’t keep . . . The answering machine is still hooked up to the old one. I’ll still wipe the tape, so you can call—”
“Thanks.” We don’t talk about it. Let’s keep not talking about it. Wei Ying rinses a glass that’s already clean.
“If you want. It’s not a problem. I just can’t keep—”
“Yeah.” He wipes the glass, too quickly, the damp microfiber squeaks a little.
“A-Ling gets confused. He hears you say her name, you say ‘Jiejie,’ and he—”
“Yeah, I get it, no problem.” Wei Ying rinses the glass again.
“You can call me, though.” Jin Zixuan is looking at him, which he rarely actually does right in the face, horribly earnest. “You know that. You can call the new number and talk to him, or to me.”
“I know. I will.” He probably won’t. He looks over at Jiang Cheng, who’s chewing on his lip. Yanli would scold him for that, say that’s why it keeps chapping, worse now that it’s getting colder. He doesn’t leave her messages, Wei Ying doesn’t think. He doesn’t need crutches like that, he straps the anger onto himself like steel braces and gets on with things, limping.
Wei Ying would like to be angry, especially today on the five year anniversary. Five full years without her. That would be a comfort, such a relief, to be angry. But he doesn’t get to be angry when Jiang Cheng is around.
Jiang Cheng clears his throat. “I can’t believe your dad allows Zixun to do that show.”
Zixuan draws himself up, sucking in a breath like he’s coming out of water. “He must get something from it. Like some kind of PR or something.”
Wei Ying goes into the back and carries out a case of wine and a case of cider, loads them into the cooler. It takes a while, he has to pull things out so the warm bottles go in the back. He can vaguely hear his brothers insulting Jin Zixun and the state of modern television, keeping it light. He stares at the label on a bottle of cider—it’s an apple with a face, one of those unnerving cartoon faces where all the teeth are the same size and shape. No one’s teeth look like that.
He shuts the cooler and returns.
“If Zixun looks like a fool,” Wei Ying says thoughtfully, interrupting them like he’s supposed to, “then he’s mostly harmless. He’s a goofball. It must be useful for the great and powerful Jin to have a goofball side. It makes you look less, I don’t know . . .” He could say a lot of things. He could say things like tyrannical or despotic or calculating or morally questionable. He doesn’t say any of it, just waves his hands around.
Zixuan looks like he hears the words anyway, and as usual, he stares out across the bar. “He’s a sacrifice, I suppose. Zixun. He’s always been the spare.”
“Do you think he knows he’s being played?” Jiang Cheng asks. “Would he keep doing it if he knew?”
“My dad,” Zixuan says slowly. “Doesn’t play Go. Metaphorically speaking. Not like A-Yao does. But he does play poker. Zixun—” he spins the glass between his hands. “Zixun plays hopscotch. Badly.”
Wei Ying snorts, and it feels nice.
“I guess I don’t like the show so much anymore,” he says, pouting.
“Good,” Jiang Cheng reaches out and flicks his ear. Wei Ying lets him.
“Why does everything have to be nefarious?” Wei Ying whines, meaning reality TV but also Jiang Cheng and his mean fingers “Can’t we have something that’s just dumb? Aren’t we there, as a country, where we can just have stupid shit that’s stupid and doesn’t mean anything?”
“You mean besides you, and also your face?” Jiang Cheng asks. Zixuan sighs at them in a judgmental way.
Wei Ying taps his chin. “Although, there’s a column there. The insidious political machinations of so-called reality.” He hits the button to roll out some receipt paper and makes a few notes.
“I just don’t get why he does it,” Jiang Cheng muses. “He has to know he looks bad. Right? Like, he has to.” As if everyone is as pathologically obsessed with their public appearance as you are, which is something Wei Ying does not say. “It’s not like he needs the money.”
As always, that’s its own flavor of uncomfortable. Zixuan makes more money than Jiang Cheng, and has a trust fund on top of it. He keeps trying to make it up by buying expensive presents and starting a tab wherever they go, but Jiang Cheng won’t take it. He used to, back when Zixuan was just their shitty rich brother-in-law, or Yanli’s shitty rich boyfriend. He used to call it “Yanli’s dowry” when he’d leave his birthday dinner with a new stereo or a nice watch. Now that they’re friends, though, he gets pissed off. He’ll get mad if Zixuan buys him a hardcover instead of a paperback, now that they’re friends. He’s a complicated man. So is Zixuan, in his way.
That’s probably why they get along so well, and why Wei Ying is always a half a step off of their weird masculine choreography. Wei Ying fancies himself a complicated man, but it’s different. He’s in control in a way they don’t seem to be, not of his life but of his face and his voice and his sentence structure. It makes him a good reporter.
They, on the other hand, have always been good soldiers.
Wei Ying had cried when Jiang Cheng enlisted, mid-’93. 
“You watch too many war movies,” he’d said, looking down at this lap, twisting his hands together, face hot and heart racing. “It won’t be like that, A-Cheng, there’s not any glory in it, it’ll just be horrible—”
“It’s the right thing to do.” Jiang Cheng had been stubborn as always, chin jutting out. “Wen Chao’s last attack—I can’t just sit here.”
Yanli hadn’t cried at all, she’d just looked between them, silent.
“Why don’t you come too?”Jian Cheng had asked him, eyes like a six-year-old. “You’d be good at it. We could do it together.”
“No, I gotta— Someone’s gotta report on all your heroics, right?” Wei Ying had been sweating, panicked, chills running down his arms, blowing his nose again and again. “Maybe I’ll get an assignment so I can follow you around and sing about your adventures. Like something out of those ancient poems, right?”
He’d been wrong about his role in the war, but more right than he’d be able to guess about ancient poetry. Because cultivation was real. Magic was real, and his brother was somehow mixed up in it.
He got drunk with Yanli the week after the first cultivator battle. The first battle with the new cultivator corps. Zixuan, Jiang Cheng, Lan Zhan, Mianmian, and the others.
“You husband is a wizard,” Wei Ying had said, slurring.
“Your brother is a wizard.” Yanli had flicked a sunflower seed into his lap. 
That was her secret: when Yanli got drunk she could go through two bags of sunflower seeds by herself. She got the cheap ones from the gas station on the corner and split them with her teeth, scattering shells everywhere like a little disaster zone. She’d clean up all the evidence in the morning, before anyone woke up. She was almost never hungover. 
Wei Ying loved that about her, the evidence she left, her secret messiness. He’d catch a stray shell in the corner, behind a potted plant or caught in the fringe of an area rug, and he’d get so rocked with love—violent, breathless love for her—that his vision would go spotty. 
Or maybe that’s just how he remembers it, now that she’s gone.
“Actually, he’s your brother too,” Wei Ying had said at the time, poking her nose. “Your husband and your brother are both wizards. So what does that make you?”
“Well, there’s Lan Zhan. You’re blushing, see, you’re blushing. And Mianmian. They’re your—”
“Friends.”
“Yeah, but you kissed both of them.”
Wei Ying had stuck out his tongue at her, or done something equally childish.
She’d cracked a sunflower seed and popped it into her mouth. “We could be wizards if we wanted to.”
“Oh, yeah, definitely”
“We just aren’t.”
“We’re busy.”
“We are busy people.”
Wei Ying is shaken out of the memory by a pint glass slamming down on the bar, just missing Jiang Cheng’s elbow. It’s Li Wangcheng, youngest son of his usual source, Li Riseung.
“Fill ‘er up, asshole,” Li Wangcheng says, listing into his buddies on either side. Jiang Cheng and Jin Zixuan are both looking at him with equally disdainful nose wrinkles. “Chop chop.”
Wei Ying sighs. “Sorry, Wangcheng, you’re cut off. I already over-served you, and I promised your dad and your brother I wouldn’t.”
“Fuck you.”
“Your liver can’t take it. Here, have some water and go sit down.”
“Fuck you, Wei Ying. Fuck you.” He’s pushing off his friends, leaning over the bar with his tobacco-stained teeth and his mix-of-alcohol breath.
“Yeah, yeah,” Wei Ying moves away, wiping down the counter, and Wangcheng follows.
“I’ll fucking kill you. You watch your back, bitch, I’ll fucking find you, and I’ll kill you.”
Wei Ying puts up his hands. “Okay, man, take it easy.”
“I know where you live. I know where you park your bike. Your stupid little fucking— Your stupid bike.”
His two biggest friends start pulling at his elbow, pulling him away. He shakes them off.
“Don’t think I won’t. Don’t think I won’t find you, motherfucker.”
Jiang Cheng is off his stool, now, and Zixuan is moving around behind him, coming in to engage. Wei Ying waves them off, desperately. Wen Ning is leaving his spot by the door.
“When you leave tonight, you better—”
“The fuck did you say?” Jiang Cheng is up in his face, now, and Wei Ying has to come out from behind the bar. He hates leaving the bar, it’s his comfortable place to be.
“Leave it. A-Cheng, A-Xuan, leave it, leave it.” He gets himself between them all, holding his brother back. Wen Ning has a good hold on Wangcheng’s shoulders.
“Fuck you.” That sprays a bit in his face, the plosive. “Everything was fine before you came here. Yiling was fine before you came here, and then everything went to shit.”
“That’s not—” Jiang Cheng tries to butt in, but Wei Ying sticks an elbow in his gut.
“I said, leave it.”
“Fucking worthless,” Wangcheng spits at him, and Wen Ning and his friends haul him back towards the door. “Fucking demon. You’re a fucking demon, Wei Ying! Fucking cursed!”
Wen Ning throws them out, and the silence following is awkward, no one looking at each other. Wei Ying wipes his face, straightens Jiang Cheng’s shirt collar, and goes back to work. There’s a short woman standing there, frozen, holding out her empty glass. He gets her another gin and cranberry, pleased that he remembered, and she gives him a pitying kind of smile. He hides his hands down by his sides, but he knows she’s seen them. Everyone can see them; he doesn’t cover them.
“Holy shit,” Jiang Cheng says, still staring back at the door.
“Yeah. Never mind.” Wei Ying readjusts his t-shirt.
“Never mind? That was a death threat. For what, cutting him off?”
“Forget about it.”
“For cutting him off? What the fuck?”
“A-Cheng, forget it.”
“I’m not gonna forget it, that guy knows where you live.”
“It’s fine, it happens. Leave it. Please? Leave it.”
Jiang Cheng sits down. Zixuan says nothing, looking between Jaing Cheng and the door.
“Does it happen a lot?” Jiang Cheng is interrogating, intelligence-mode.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Wei Ying, does it happen a lot?”
“I mean, a bit. Okay?”
“For cutting—?”
“It’s not about cutting him off. It’s not about that. It’s not about me. Calm down.”
“Sure sounded like it’s about you. ‘Demon,’ really—”
“If it wasn’t me it would be someone else. Wen Ning. His friends. His dad.” Wei Ying chops more limes than he needs to, calmed by the sharpness of the knife. “He’s dying. Actually dying, everyone knows it. His liver is shot. He’s been laid off for months, and he can’t pay for any more treatment. His dad’s broke, mom died in the war. He’s lashing out.”
“But that’s not your—”
“You can’t swing at the clouds forever. Right? He’s not the only one. People feel good here, they feel comfortable here, and so they can hit someone here if they need to. You get beaten down and beaten down for year after year, eventually you have to fight back. Right? Otherwise what are you?” What am I? he doesn’t ask.
Zixuan clears his throat, still not looking at him. “What’s the use of fighting you? You’re not—”
Wei Ying laughs at him, mean. “What’s he gonna do, fight your dad? The whole fucking government? Who can he hit? After a while, you have to hit something or you’ll go mad. You have to make contact. Right?” He chops another lime. “You have to have an effect on something. You have to hit someone and see the bruise, or yell at someone and see them flinch. Otherwise it’s like you don’t exist at all. You’re already dead.”
“Wei Ying,” Zixuan says it, which is a surprise. He almost never says his name.
“Somewhere like this, somewhere like Yiling, all you can reach is the guy next to you. Once they put the crabs in the bucket, they put the lid on.”
The chatter in the bar is back, which is nice since there’s an awkward silence between the three of them. Wei Ying puts the chopped limes into the cooler and washes the cutting board, washes the knife. He replaces a drink at the other end of the bar earlier than he normally would—the guy is only halfway through, but he nods a thanks.
“What about—” Zixuan starts, hesitant. “Wei Ying, what about police?”
“Ha!” Wei Ying snaps it at him, not a laugh, not at all. “Don’t you— You don’t come here, into my bar, talking about police.”
“I didn’t come in talking about police, I’m just saying—”
“No cops in Yiling.” He shuts a cooler with his heel, a satisfying slam. “Cops are military, and the military hates Yiling.”
Zixuan bristles. “No, we don’t.”
He always does this. It’s one of the things Wei Ying can’t process about him, and one of the reasons they’ve never been close and probably never will be. It’s always “we.” The Jins, the government, the military. Wei Ying can like him if he doesn’t see Jin Guangshan, if he doesn’t see Jin Guangyao, if he doesn’t see the war when he looks at him. But then he comes in with the “we.”
It’s probably sad, actually, how long he’s been a soldier. How much of him is wrapped up in being his dad’s perfect soldier.
Wei Ying bites his tongue, takes a breath. “Of course you do. Everyone in charge hates Yiling.”
“I don’t hate Yiling.” Zixuan is getting stubborn. He looks like A-Ling, almost a pout. “It’s where you live, and you’re my family.”
Wei Ying blinks at him. “I don’t know how to talk to you when you get like this.”
“Like what?”
“Sincere. All, you know—” he waves an empty bottle around in Zixuan’s face. “Sincere.”
The pout becomes more of a pout. “I’m always sincere.
“Yeah, that’s why we don’t talk.”
Jiang Cheng leans across the bar and snags the rail whiskey bottle to top off his own glass.
“I can beat you up later, if you like,” Zixuan offers.
“Yeah.” Wei Ying doesn’t want to smile, but he does anyway. “Maybe.”
The silence isn’t awkward this time. Wei Ying takes the whiskey bottle back from Jiang Cheng and makes a show of wiping it off with the bleach rag. Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes.
After a while, Jiang Cheng asks, “Is there something happening here this month? For the five years? Like a memorial or something?” He’s looking away, all careful again.
“Is Lanling doing something?” They look at Zixuan, only slightly accusing on Wei Ying’s part.
“No. I mean December 3 there will be a whole . . . Armistice anniversary.”
“But nothing for Sunshot. Nothing for the massacre I mean,” Wei Ying says.
“I mean, not specifically.” Zixuan licks his lips. “I’m sure it’ll be mentioned.”
“Nothing here, though?” Jiang Cheng asks again.
“Trust me, people around here aren’t the ones that need reminding what you’re— what Lanling is capable of.” 
“That’s not fair,” Zixuan says.
Wei Ying looks down at his hands, the mottled brown of them. Flies, flies and dirt and flies and chemicals and flies. “Don’t talk about fair. Not about this.”
Zixuan opens his mouth, but Jiang Cheng shakes his head, violently.
“A-Cheng, it’s not—”
“Stop it.” Jiang Cheng is glaring at him now, the kind of look Wei Ying gets all the time, but Zixuan doesn’t see so much. It makes him stop.
Wei Ying goes to the back and grabs the broom. Jiang Cheng reaches over for the gin bottle and tops off Zixuan’s glass. Wei Ying pretends he doesn’t see it and starts at the far end of the bar. It’s getting slower, people heading out for the night to more exciting places.
A song comes on, something from his college days. He remembers recording it onto a cassette tape from the radio, keeping it in his backpack. Lan Zhan didn’t really like it, but he let Wei Ying play it all the time on his cheap little dorm room stereo.
Wei Ying sings along under his breath as he sweeps. “And if I lied, would you forgive me. Whoa-oh-oh. Fit to be tied, but you still live with me. Oh, whoa-oh-oh.”
“This song,” Zixuan says, smiling a little. “We used to— We used to fight a lot. A-Li and I. Stupid stuff. I was late for dinner. My mom would get so overbearing and we’d fight about that. Her mom would— Well, you know. We’d fight about that. Baby stuff. We didn’t know what to do about baby stuff, so she bought out the whole section of the book store and said we’d divide and conquer. But every book was different, so we’d argue. Dr. Po says this. Well, Dr. Wen says that. She could be so— You’re all so stubborn. Stupid stuff. And we’d be so pissed off we stopped speaking to each other. But I bought her this CD once, not for a birthday or anything, just because. She loved them from way back. And she’d put it on, and we’d dance, and we wouldn’t be mad anymore.”
“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng said, clearing his throat. “She liked that sappy shit.”
“Do you play it for A-Ling?” Wei Ying asks.
Zixuan shakes his head. “It makes me sad to hear it. I spend most of my time trying not to be sad around A-Ling.”
Jiang Cheng moves like he’s going to touch him, his arm, his shoulder. He aborts the move and grabs his glass instead, slides it over to tap against Zixuan’s. 
“You’re doing good,” he says.
Zixuan looks down, blinking seriously.
“You are,” Wei Ying agrees. “You’re doing good. And you know it pains me to say it.”
Zixuan gives him an echo of a laugh.
“A-Ling is lucky.”
“He’d be luckier if his uncles would visit. Both of them.”
“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying say in unison.
“You want me to change the song?” Wei Ying asks.
“No, leave it. It’s good. It’s a nice song.”
An old woman leans on the bar—she’s familiar but Wei Ying can’t remember her name. “Hey, hey, Wei Ying!”
“Yeah, auntie?” he smiles charmingly at her.
“You know my daughter’s coming home soon. December 21.”
“Cheers to that!” he gives her a half-salute.
“I’ll set you up, once she’s home. Just you wait, she’s the prettiest, even now.”
“I’m sure she is.”
“She makes that jumpsuit look like runway fashion. Still has her figure, even with the prison food.”
“Can’t wait,” Wei Ying says politely.
“December 21,” the old woman waves her finger at him and heads for the door. 
“Invite me to the wedding,” Jiang Cheng teases.
“December 21,” Wei Ying rolls it around in his mouth. “The Wens are coming home.”
Zixuan straightens up. “Really?”
“That’s what we’re celebrating. We don’t celebrate the Massacre, but innocent people coming home? That’s worth it.”
“Innocent is—”
“Zixuan, think about where you are.”
Zixuan nods.
All of the Wens who’d been scooped up post-Sunshot, post-war, those related to rebels or in the wrong place at the wrong time, they’d all been sentenced to five years in prison. “Just to be safe.” The majority came from Yiling, Dafan, other small towns in the West. People who couldn’t afford to run to Lanling, to Gusu, somewhere safe during the worst of the fighting. People who wouldn’t turn their backs on brothers and aunts and cousins in Nightless City. 
But five years have almost passed, and the Wens are coming home.
“It’ll be weird, won’t it?” Jiang Cheng asks, diplomatic in his insensitivity.
“A hundred and forty-three people,” Wei Ying says. “At least, that’s how many went in. I’m sure a couple fucked up inside, got their sentences extended.”
“But still.”
“But still,” he agrees.
“Are you going to do something for it? In December?” Jiang Cheng asks him.
“Dunno. I should stock up though, shouldn’t I? I’ll make a note.”
Later, after Jiang Cheng and Zixuan leave for Jiang Cheng’s Yiling sublet—a two bedroom so Zixuan doesn’t have to get his own place in town—Wei Ying sweeps up while Wen Ning flips chairs up on the tables.  
“Have you ever gotten over something?” Wei Ying asks him.
“Like what?” Wen Ning stops working and looks at him. He always does that—Wei Ying has always wondered if he had hearing loss as a kid. If he’s talking to you, he always has to stop whatever he’s doing and look at you right in the face.
“I don’t know. But have you ever stood there a second and realized you were over something? Or through something. You know, on the other side?”
Wen Ning thinks for a while, and Wei Ying sweeps around his feet. “School, I guess.”
“Yeah, that makes sense.”
“What about you?”
Wei Ying leans down with the dust pan. “I don’t think I’ve ever come out the other side of anything. I think maybe if you stay in something long enough you adapt. Grow gills or whatever, so you can breathe. So you can survive when the world turns unlivable around you. And maybe you aren’t living at all, maybe you’re a stone, or you’re a dead fish with rotten eyes, washed up on the bank of a river that dried up years and years ago.” 
Wen Ning still looks at him, eyebrows furrowed, but he doesn’t ask Wei Ying to make sense. It’s what Wei Ying appreciates the most about him. 
“So maybe you’re dead, or maybe you’re evolving. Like, maybe that’s just what the world is now, and what you would have previously defined as dead, what you’d look at ten years ago and say that’s a dead thing, maybe that’s just what life looks like now. Evolution.” 
Wen Ning nods and picks up a chair. “I think . . . I might be remembering wrong, but I think evolution takes a long time. Like many generations. So maybe you should look at the kids.”
“The kids?” 
“Yeah, see if the kids have gills. Or whatever. Whatever you said.”
Wei Ying leans his chin on his broom and watches Wen Ning go table by table, strong and methodical. He sets the chairs so gently on the tabletops that it doesn’t make any noise. He flips them with complete control and lines up the seats.
“Maybe,” Wei Ying says. He goes back behind the bar and turns up the music. There’s work to do before heading home
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